Spoils of War
by Deandra
Summary: The end to a war is always a good thing, but for Eomer it brought unexpected spoils.  Complete in 11 chapters plus a short Epilogue, posting a chapter every other day.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Some time ago, Lialathuveril wrote a short story about Eomer and Lothiriel in which Eomer's grandmother, Morwen, was still alive and living in Lossarnach. Up until then, I had not given Morwen much thought, but further research suggested she might in fact still be living in 3019 (about age 97). Tolkien told us very little of her, and even less about some of her children. Based on what little he did write, I have formed a possible scenario for use in this story. Certainly this is not the ONLY possibility, and many stories could be written about Morwen and her daughters, but the details I've imagined here suit my particular purpose at this time. Tolkien does not name three of Morwen's daughters. In a previous story of mine, I gave one the name of Minleoth, and I have used that name for her again here. I have also named the other two daughters, and if they appear in any other stories of mine, likely I will use the same names for them.**_

_**While I wrote, Morwen ended up on the page and taking up more of the storyline than I originally intended. Nevertheless, this is still an Eomer/Lothiriel story at its heart. Morwen just plays a large part in it.**_

_**Complete in 11 chapters plus a short Epilogue, posting a chapter every other day. Sorry about the footnotes. Someone else used them and they worked, but mine turned into regular numbers.  
**_

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 1** (Cormallen, April 3019 III)

"Eomer! Will you join us?" Erchirion called to his friend, and Rohan's king turned with a smile.

"Of course!" Settling down on a bench by the fire, he accepted a goblet of wine from an attending servant. "And what do the men of Dol Amroth do off by themselves this night?" he questioned, swallowing some wine as he looked around.

Imrahil chuckled. "Nothing of much consequence to anyone but us, I am afraid. We were speaking of my daughter. She has been staying with an elderly cousin in Lossarnach the past few months. We have decided to ride and fetch her as soon as Aragorn is crowned. It would be unfair to have her miss all the celebrations, and it is an easy ride. We can head out mid-morning, after the coronation, and return the next day." His eyes brightened then, and he added, "Would you care to come? I know you are eager to see your sister again, but if she is well enough, perhaps she would also enjoy such an outing. Lossarnach should be lush and green just now – well worth the effort after so much dust and bleakness."

Amrothos cleared his throat and asked, "Wait – is not Morwen of Lossarnach your grandmother? I seem to recall that is so."

"She is," Eomer acknowledged. "Why do you ask?"

Smiling, his friend replied, "Because _that_ is the cousin of whom we speak! It would seem that we are somewhat related! Distant cousins, if I am not mistaken."

Imrahil had been pondering their conversation and now nodded. "Yes, we would be cousins. All the more reason for you and Eowyn to come with us, Eomer."

Eomer's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "I do not know if that is wise. We have not seen my grandmother in…well, the truth of it is, I do not remember her. She left the Mark when I was only three years of age, and Eowyn was not yet born. She has never displayed any interest in her grandchildren."

Imrahil nodded in understanding, but counseled, "Perhaps not, my friend, but that is not to say you should not make the attempt. It may be that she regrets the distance, but has merely grown too old to do anything about it. She draws ever nearer to the end of her life. You have so little family left – shall you not seek to preserve any family connection that you possibly can?"

Eomer knew it was sound advice, though he was still reluctant to yield. If anything, Eowyn felt even more strongly about the matter – she had never come to terms with Morwen's departure. Theodred had spoken warmly of their grandmother, remembering her well since she had largely been responsible for his care after the death of his mother in childbirth. Despite that, Morwen was a stranger to Eomer, and he had always been rather disinterested in the whole thing, not caring to know anyone who did not care to know him. But the prospect of a day spent riding out with Eowyn was a welcome one, so he would attempt to persuade her. "I thank you for the offer. I cannot speak for Eowyn, but I would be happy to accompany you."

xxxxx

In other circumstances, Eowyn might have begged off making the journey. But she understood how busy Faramir would be attending his new king; he would have little time to spend with her. This jaunt might give her an opportunity to make Eomer aware of her new-found love and wish to marry. In all the hustle and bustle, her brother would not have noticed anything between the two of them, but when they returned to the White City, it was sure to be evident, and she preferred to tell him of it than have him learn about the situation from others.

Erchirion had remained at Minas Tirith to make sure their house was in order and to assist Faramir in any way that was needed. Elphir was already there, having arrived from Dol Amroth the previous week, and he had put in long hours helping their cousin in preparations for the king's return.

Imrahil and Amrothos had readily allowed the siblings to drop back to talk privately, for which Eowyn was grateful. Though these were all the kin Faramir had left, and she looked forward to better knowing them, the most pressing matter was speaking to her brother. He was understandably concerned at her seemingly abrupt change of affection from Aragorn to Faramir, but Eowyn assured him her heart was true in this. "Did you not tell me that Aragorn said to you that in him I loved only a shadow and a thought?(1) Can you not see that he was right? I still respect and admire him, but he does not hold my heart. Only in Faramir have I found peace within myself. I am _certain_ about this, Eomer. Truly I am."

With a sigh, Eomer nodded. "Very well. I will trust you, though I wish to meet this man before I give my consent to a marriage. His relatives from Dol Amroth give me no reason to think I will object to him, and Boromir was an excellent man, but the father concerns me. I do not approve of Denethor's actions through all this. Many lives might have been spared had he acted differently."

"That is not for us to judge, Eomer, especially after what happened at Edoras with Uncle Theoden. Faramir has told me a great deal of the situation in Gondor. Lord Denethor made mistakes, it is true, but they were honest mistakes. He did what he thought best for Gondor, however ill advised. It drove him to a madness in the end that caused his destruction, and he very nearly took Faramir with him. It is difficult to forgive that, but Faramir does and so I must also. He knew his father far better than I could in just a few month's time of listening to words spoken by others about the man."

Reluctantly, Eomer shrugged and agreed. "I suppose you are right. And he is dead now, so we can never fully know what drove him. If it is any consolation, even Aragorn and Gandalf speak well of this man you would marry. He has that to his credit," he teased.

Eowyn favored him with a glare before finally grinning, and nudging her horse forward to rejoin their hosts.

"How is it that your daughter is in Lossarnach? I would have thought she remained at home in Dol Amroth with your son, Elphir," Eomer commented, after they had ridden in companionable silence for a time.

Imrahil nodded. "That would seem reasonable, but with the corsairs attacking along the coast, I was not sure how safe it would be there. And, I confess, I wished to have her nearer to me. So, when we marched the troops north to Minas Tirith, we took her to stay with Lady Morwen. Sauron showed little interest in Lossarnach during the course of the war, though I have no doubt that would have changed had he won. Most of those who were sent from the City before the siege fled to the Lossarnach vales for refuge."(2)

"Have you a close connection with Lady Morwen?" Eowyn interjected, her features rigid and her eyes cold. While she had her own reason for coming along, she was not particularly pleased with their destination. Eomer suspected it was more a desire to escape the city than a wish to meet their grandmother, and likely the best he could hope for from her would be civility. If Faramir had been available to join his kinsmen on the outing, he thought perhaps this whole matter might be somewhat less tense, but the Steward could not presently be spared.

"Not so very much. I usually try to visit her at least once a year when I am in the City. But she has been most cordial about opening her home. Speaking of which, I have not alerted her to our pending arrival, so I did not know if she would be able to accommodate such a large group. However, Forlong's heir, Lord Zimran, has offered the use of his home. He sent a messenger to alert his staff that we would be coming," Imrahil explained. Looking closely at Eowyn, he started to say more, but then thought better of it and kept silent. It was unlikely he had any words that would ease the tension between the woman and her grandmother. They would have to settle matters on their own. At least Eomer seemed equanimable. Perhaps that would help.

It was very late in the afternoon when they reached the yard of Morwen's home. They had eaten their midday meal along the way so as not to be hungry when they arrived, and risk imposing such a large party on the staff of Morwen's household. Lothiriel must have received word of who had come, for she bolted from the house before all were dismounted and flung herself into her father's arms. "You are here! And safe!" She hugged him tightly before drawing back to flick her gaze around the assembled group, seeking for her brothers.

"Only Amrothos is with me," Imrahil said, pointing to where his youngest son was handing over the reins of his horse to a servant and hastening to join them. "The others remained with Faramir and will see us in the City."

The siblings fervently embraced, not speaking lest their emotions overwhelm them, and the rest of the party waited patiently for their reunion to end. After several minutes, Lothiriel stepped back, smoothing her dress and acknowledging the strangers in their midst. "You have brought guests?" she inquired of her father, glancing at Eomer and Eowyn standing nearby.

"Yes, dearest. I would have you meet, Eomer, King of Rohan, and his sister, Lady Eowyn – whom it will please you to know has captured the heart of our own Faramir!" Imrahil had been delighted when they shared Eowyn's news with him, and he had spent part of the trip assuring Eomer that Faramir was everything worthy as a husband to the king's sister.

Eowyn pinked at the remark, while Lothiriel's eyes went wide with astonishment. "Indeed! That is excellent news! I am so very happy to meet you, Lady Eowyn!" Then, remembering herself, she added sincerely, "And you also, Eomer King." She offered a graceful curtsy.

"The pleasure is ours," Eomer instantly responded. "Your family speaks warmly of you, and we have looked forward to finally making your acquaintance."

Lothiriel smiled at him and then glanced toward the house. "Please, come inside. Lady Morwen will be glad of the company, and to hear somewhat of Rohan. It has been long since she resided there."

Judging by her comment, Eomer suspected the girl was unaware of the dissension within his family, and that Morwen might not be so pleased as she expected. Nevertheless, they were here and had intended the meeting. Better for it to occur sooner rather than later.

Imrahil offered his arm to his daughter and they crossed the yard, followed closely by Amrothos and the Rohan pair. Lothiriel guided them down a short corridor and then off to the left into a large sitting room. Eomer was a little surprised by how much the home was more to Rohirric standards than Gondor's. Wood was used more than all the stone which was so prevalent throughout Minas Tirith. In many ways, it put him in mind of his home at Aldburg, though decorations on the walls were fairly unspecific to either land. Horses were not a common theme, but the sun appeared in a few tapestries, displayed in much the same way they used it in the Mark. Even so, there were also samples displaying the white tree. The overall effect was more a tribute to nature than to a sovereignty.

The group entered to find an elderly woman, sitting in state and eyeing them with narrowed gaze. Eomer got the distinct impression that she had guessed who they were, though there was no reason she should have, and her features remained impassive as Imrahil introduced them.

"Lady Morwen," Eomer acknowledged with a reserved bow, and Eowyn gave a reluctant curtsy to her grandmother.

"Eomer _King_, is it? I had foolishly hoped the reports were in error, and that my son and his heir were not truly fallen. Perhaps another time you would be so good as to tell me of their final days," she said, firmly meeting Eomer's gaze.

He merely nodded, not entirely clear whether it had been a request or a demand she was making. Morwen waved her hand around the room. "Please be seated. Lothiriel, would you have refreshments brought for our guests?"

"Of course, my lady," Lothiriel said politely, a bit disconcerted by the stilted behavior she was witnessing.

The others began settling into chairs and onto a small couch as Lothiriel exited, but conversation had lapsed for the moment. At length, however, one person had something they wished to say.

"Do you _enjoy_ your home in _Gondor_?" Eowyn questioned, her arms crossed belligerently. She had ignored the invitation to be seated, choosing to stand by the fireplace as she confronted her grandmother.

Morwen eyed her frostily. "Do not take that tone with me, girl! You dare invade my house and favor me with your haughty, condescending words? Yes, I do very much enjoy my home here. But Lossarnach was my dearly loved home long before I ever came to Rohan. Had you been taken from the Mark to live in a distant land, once you were free to do so I have little doubt you would also have returned to the land you loved most."

She gave an irritated wave of her hand. "Oh, do be seated, child! I am too old for this sort of bickering. I made my choice, and though you do not approve, it was my choice to make. I am content. Without dear Thengel beside me, there was no reason to linger there when I truly wanted to be here. It is as simple as that."

"Regardless of your children or grandchildren?" Eowyn persisted, not willing to yield so readily, despite the uncomfortable shifting in their seats of the Dol Amroth men.

"I was sorry not to see my grandchildren. My children understood why I left, and assured me they would visit. But the Mark has long been troubled and somehow time was never made for such journeys. So I must content myself with this glimpse of Theodwyn's offspring." Her gaze softened as she added, "She would be proud, I am sure. Eomund also."

When Eowyn continued to stand where she was, Morwen said pointedly, "My choice was not acceptable to everyone, just as your recent decision was not. We are not so unalike, Eowyn." At Eowyn's startled countenance, she smiled. "Did you think me cut off and unaware here in Lossarnach's vales? Not at all – I keep abreast of what is happening around me, both here and in the Riddermark. I know far more than you give me credit."

Unsettled by Morwen's observation, Eowyn finally took a seat on a chair, the farthest one from her grandmother. As she did, Imrahil attempted to turn the conversation to more pleasant topics. "I realize you rarely leave your home these days, my lady, but if you would care to come to Minas Tirith and participate in the celebrations there, I should be happy to escort you. And you may not be aware, but our new king turns out to be none other than that same Thorongil(3) who served both your husband and Gondor many years ago. You may wish to meet him and renew the acquaintance."

"Thorongil(4)…yes, I remember that man," Morwen murmured thoughtfully. "King, now, is he? I cannot say that I am entirely surprised. There was always something in his eyes…"

Lothiriel had returned, along with servants bearing trays with wine and goblets, which they began to fill and offer around the room. Lothiriel settled next to her father on the couch, catching his hand in hers and giving him a warm smile. After so long apart and worrying about his safety, she needed to actually touch him in order to be convinced he was truly well.

Sipping at her wine, Morwen paused to ask, "Are you intending to return to Minas Tirith tonight? It is already nearing dusk."

Imrahil took it upon himself to speak for their group. "No, we will depart tomorrow, but I did want to come by and alert Lothiriel so she could spend the evening preparing her belongings for travel."

"Then where will you be staying overnight?" Morwen queried. "I am not sure I can adequately accommodate so many on such short notice." She sniffed with mild disapproval at this breach of etiquette.

"I had assumed that would be the case, my lady. Do not fear. We made arrangements to stay at the home of Lord Zimran. He sent word on there to ready rooms for us, but we came directly here first. Please know, though, that you are very welcome to pack a few belongings and accompany us. We will come to collect Lothiriel at mid-morning tomorrow and be on our way. And I am sure I have room for you in my home, even though I have Eomer and Eowyn staying with me, along with a few other guests."

"I will…consider it," Morwen conceded, clearly unwilling to be rushed into a decision. Then, changing the subject, she said, "Lord Zimran steps into his father's place now, does he not? I had heard that Forlong fell on the Pelennor. A great loss – he was a most admirable man."

"He was, indeed," Imrahil agreed, "and he died fighting valiantly. Some made light of his girth, but I am persuaded his size reflected his courage. Few fat, old men would throw themselves so readily into battle, defending their land."

Morwen smiled at his words. "True enough. There were those who thought he ought not go, but stay to defend Lossarnach and let his son lead our men in battle. However, he would not hear of such a thing, and wisely I think he hoped to keep Lord Zimran in reserve – both to govern Lossarnach, and to serve Gondor at need. He knew his time was nearly ended, so his loss would not be such a blow as Zimran's would."

Eomer's brow knit at her words, not expecting such wisdom. While it was tragic to lose anyone in battle, better to lose the elderly than the young men who would be needed to rebuild afterwards. Having none alive but old men, who would soon pass away, might briefly be useful, but it did not help future generations of their people.

"Have they planned supper for you at Lord Zimran's?" Morwen asked unexpectedly.

"I believe so," Imrahil replied. "I did not wish to overwhelm you with demands for courtesy when our coming was not anticipated." He swallowed the last of the wine in his glass and rose. "And I think we must depart so as not to inconvenience them in awaiting us. We shall see you on the morrow, and do please consider my invitation to join us."

Morwen inclined her head noncommittally as the others in the party stood as well. "I will see them out," Lothiriel offered, loath to part from her family a moment sooner than necessary.

It was a tearful farewell, despite Lothiriel knowing they would return the next day. "Do not weep, dearest," her father whispered. "You are coming home. All is well." He drew her into his embrace a final time before stepping up into the saddle of his waiting horse.

She looked up at him, with her hand upon his knee. "Mid-morning, then?" she asked, struggling to control her voice and appear collected.

"Yes. We brought a horse for you, but if Morwen decides to go with us I am sure she will want a carriage. And you have the packhorse here that brought your belongings," he replied.

"I will be ready, Father. Indeed, I shall be up at first light and watching at the window for your return!"

She gave a deprecating laugh at her foolishness, but he smiled tenderly down as he stroked her cheek. "Until tomorrow then."

Lothiriel stepped back and watched as they turned their horses toward the gate, lifting her hand to wave one final time before they disappeared around a tall hedge.

The servants were already setting out their supper when Lothiriel returned inside. In some ways, Lady Morwen was very set in her ways, and preferred to eat her meals precisely on time. The girl smiled, knowing that likely Morwen would have hastened her guests on their way had they threatened to delay her supper!

Already, Morwen was making her way slowly into the dining chamber. Though age had slackened her footsteps, she was still quite hale, and even her hair and face did not bely the many years she had seen. Her locks, once as black as the darkest night, still fought off the encroachment of white, giving the appearance of wet earth dusted lightly by frost, and her skin was nearly flawless and barely lined. Lothiriel had sometimes wondered if it was the blood of Numenor in her or just her own natural tendency that kept her so well.

After waiting for Morwen to seat herself first, Lothiriel followed suit, settling a napkin across her lap as the servants dished out soup for each of them. Before she could take a first taste of it – a creamy mushroom soup that was her favorite – her cousin began a conversation.

"So, tell me, child – what do you think of him?" Morwen queried imperiously.

Cautiously Lothiriel replied, "Whom do you mean, my lady?"

"Oh, do not be coy with me, girl – my grandson! What do you think of him?" the elderly woman persisted.

Lothiriel thought for a moment and then shrugged. "He is very quiet and solemn, but he seems amiable enough, Lady Morwen. And he appears to have excellent manners for a man who has been a warrior for so very long. I know my father and brothers think most highly of him."

"Yes, but men are so easily won over by prowess in battle," Morwen observed, as she considered Lothiriel's answer. "Likely 'dour' is a better description than 'solemn', although he has good reason. A great burden has been placed upon his shoulders now that he is king. Still, he is a handsome man, is he not, in a rugged sort of way?"

Lothiriel blushed slightly, but nodded. "Yes, my lady, he is. Amrothos was telling me in one of his letters from Cormallen that the ladies are quite taken with him, though I am sure part of that is due to the crown he wears. There will be many eager to sit beside him on the throne of Rohan."

Morwen eyed her perceptively, noting the heightened color in her cheeks, but did not inquire as to whether Lothiriel herself was such an aspirant. Whether she was or not, it was certain that Lothiriel would be most appropriate for such a role. But, more than that, Morwen liked the girl a great deal. She had enjoyed her company these past few months. Lothiriel was not only lovely, but level-headed and sensible, and very accomplished in all the things a young lady should be. Her grandson could do far worse. The only question was whether or not he would have the sense to see it. Men could be so very stubborn about such things. The painted ladies of Minas Tirith, with their flirtatious ways and forward manner, were apt to draw his attention away from someone so ingenuous as Lothiriel. Well, Morwen would simply have to make sure he took proper notice. True, she could not light a spark between them through any of her own doing, but she could make certain that Lothiriel was not overlooked when he was overwhelmed by more persistently pursuing women.

"And what about my granddaughter?" She brought her gaze to bear on Lothiriel, suspecting the response this time would not be so decided.

"She…she seems very nice, also, but I know little of her," Lothiriel acknowledged. "However, Faramir has long resisted the feminine wiles of Gondor's ladies. If he has given his heart to her, then I am disposed to like her if for no other reason."

"There is that," Morwen conceded, "though the girl's manners could use improvement. Still, despite her demeanor, I sense a vulnerability in her. I have to wonder what led her to the battlefield of Gondor when her place should have been at Edoras, leading the people in Theoden's absence."

As she fell into contemplation, Lothiriel kept silent. She had long ago learned that Morwen neither needed nor desired much conversation, and she knew that further discussion would come when the woman was ready for it.

The siblings from the north had intrigued her. King Eomer seemed to fill a room when he entered, even when he remained silent. She had no trouble imagining him leading a great host of men in battle. In all her associations with soldiers, she had seen only one or two leaders with that kind of presence, but she knew this was the sort of man who could rally his army even when all odds seemed against them. Men willingly died for such a captain. Beyond that, however, she could not say she knew much of him. He had said very little during their visit, content to let her father carry the conversation. It was easy enough to admire him as a leader, and even to acknowledge how attractive he was to the female eye, but it was difficult to know if it ended there. Some such men were incapable of casual conversation, and spoke only of war and battles. She would be interested to see, when they reached Minas Tirith, what social skills he may or may not possess.

Eowyn was even more of a mystery. As her cousin had noted, there was something almost fragile about the woman, which seemed odd considering her accomplishment in battle. When they had learned of it, Morwen had told Lothiriel a little of Rohan's tradition of shieldmaidens, and riding into battle was not necessarily a part of it. True, they were expected to be valiant and skilled with a blade, but beyond the ceremonial, the shieldmaiden was more for defense in any fight that came to their door. Women were not expected to ride out and meet an enemy. Lothiriel could not help but wonder what might have driven this particular woman to do something so drastic.

Morwen had not misspoken when she told her grandchildren that she knew much of the goings on in Gondor and Rohan. And, sharing her home, Lothiriel had learned much as well. It was no secret that there had been treachery within the king's household at Edoras, courtesy of a man named Grima. Though all the particulars could not be known, Lothiriel rather wondered if he had not somehow played a part in Eowyn's presence in Gondor with a sword in her hand. And even if he did not, in some ways Lothiriel could still understand her coming. Just a few short months ago it had seemed as though all of Middle-earth was to be destroyed or conquered by the great evil in the east. Had Lothiriel known how to fight, she might also have desired to stand alongside her family – to die with them or to help bring about a victory. Perhaps, in the end, fealty for her kin was what had driven Eowyn to battle.

Her musings were interrupted by Morwen pronouncing, "I believe I _will_ go to Minas Tirith. It would seem there is much to be seen and learned there. Would you be so kind as to attend me in the City, Lothiriel?"

"Of course!" Lothiriel replied with undisguised pleasure. She had become quite fond of the elderly woman as they had shared a home, and she very much enjoyed the association. Indeed, she was sure she would miss Morwen when she returned to Dol Amroth. "I am more than happy to aid you in any way that you wish, my lady. It would be an honor to do so."

Morwen smiled, knowing full well that the sentiments expressed were sincere, even though by rights a daughter of Dol Amroth's prince would have no need to be so subservient to anyone else. Perhaps due to not knowing most of her own grandchildren, a bond had quickly formed with the girl, though in part that was the result of Lothiriel's open and easy nature. It had not taken long, nor been difficult, for the both of them to settle into a comfortable routine. Lothiriel brought liveliness to Morwen's home, and Morwen shared her wisdom and sources of information with the girl. Each had gained from the association and would regret it coming to an end. True, Lothiriel could, and likely would, visit whenever she was in the north, but beyond that they were not apt to see much of one another.

Shoving aside her plate, Morwen used the table to steady herself as she rose. "Well, then, if I am to make this journey, I had best get busy with organizing my trunk. You also, as you will have far more to pack than I do, though if you forget anything it can be gotten later." She smiled fondly at the girl before making her way slowly toward the door of the dining room. "Would you find Halgeth and send her to me?" she requested over her shoulder, not awaiting a response but knowing she would be heeded.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.

ch 1: (1) In the book, Aragorn tells Eomer (in the Houses of Healing) that Eowyn loves only a shadow and a thought. In the movie, Peter Jackson had Aragorn say it to Eowyn at Dunharrow.

(2) In the book, Minas Tirith was not full of citizens as in the movie.

(3) In the Appendix A (under The Numenorean Kings) it says: "Thorongil men called him in Gondor, the Eagle of the Star, for he was swift and keen-eyed, and wore a silver star upon his cloak; but no one knew his true name nor in what land he was born. He came to Ecthelion from Rohan, where he had served the King Thengel, but he was not one of the Rohirrim." This suggests that Thorongil had a different name in Rohan before he got to Gondor. However, in Appendix B, under The Tale of Years, the timeline for the Third age says that from 2957-80 "Aragorn undertakes his great journeys and errantries. As Thorongil he serves in disguise both Thengel of Rohan and Ecthelion II of Gondor." If this is true, he was also known as Thorongil in Rohan. As I have found no other name he may have gone by in Rohan, I am assuming he used Thorongil there also.

(4) Although in the extended version of Two Towers Aragorn tells Eowyn that Theoden was but a small child when he served her grandfather Thengel, in 2957 when Thorongil came to Rohan Theoden would have been 9. Even assuming Thorongil stayed in Rohan a shorter period than he was in Gondor (I split it as 9 yrs in Rohan and 14 in Gondor for this story), that would make Theoden 18 yrs old when Thorongil left – well able to remember him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 2**

Lord Zimran's household was very attentive to their guests, and a wonderful meal had been awaiting them. Afterwards, they had talked awhile in the library, but already Eowyn and Amrothos had taken themselves off to bed. Eomer, feeling restless, went out to stand on the porch and enjoy the night air. It was peaceful and quiet here, something he was still trying to get used to – experience tended to put him on the alert in such situations. But even though there might be dangers out in the darkness tonight, both the household guards and Imrahil's escort were keeping watch. He could be at ease…well, at least he could hope to be. It was not so simple a thing.

"My apologies, my friend," Imrahil said quietly as he came to stand beside Eomer. "It was not my intention to cause you more difficulty than you already face. I did not realize how…tense things were with your grandmother."

Eomer sighed and shook his head. "No, it is not your fault. I knew there might be discord, but I had not thought Eowyn would be so contentious. But, perhaps, she did not mean to be so, and just let her temper get away from her. She has long resented Lady Morwen's absence. Our cousin, Theodred, remembered Morwen fondly, since she essentially raised him to manhood, and Eowyn always felt…cheated. I was only three when she left and so do not remember meeting her; I never really concerned myself with it one way or the other. In my mind, she was not there in the same way that Theodred's mother was not there."

"Perhaps, but it is a shame. Although I confess I have never heard Morwen mention why she left Rohan, nor ever returned, I have always thought well of her, and considered her to be an exceptionally fine woman. I suppose I merely assumed it was a matter of loving her first home best, and longing to return there. I cannot say I do not understand such a feeling. No matter how often or for how long I am away from Dol Amroth, I am drawn to the sea. I will forever think of that as 'home' and return if I possibly can."

They both fell silent until Imrahil placed a hand on the young king's shoulder. "Try to get some rest. In time, now that this first meeting is out of the way, maybe your relationship will improve. I did not get the impression that Lady Morwen was unwilling, and that is something."

Eomer gave his friend a smile and nodded. "True. We have seen many astonishing things of late. Perhaps renewed relations will be one of them!"

Imrahil laughed as the two headed back inside, walking silently beside one another until they parted in the hall to their rooms. In some ways, Eomer was uncertain how he felt about Morwen. Part of him thought he _should_ feel something for his grandmother, but she was too much a stranger for him to honestly say that he did. But, as Imrahil had noted, he would do well to preserve what few family ties he still had. With only the three of them remaining alive, it would fall to Eomer and Eowyn to rebuild their line in the Fourth Age that was being proposed.

xx

True to her word, Lothiriel was awake early and eagerly watching for the return of her father and brother. And, surprisingly, she found she was also eager to become better acquainted with Morwen's grandchildren. Even over breakfast, and knowing it was too early to expect them, her eyes kept flicking toward the window, wanting to glimpse them at the first moment possible.

Already Morwen's carriage had been pulled into the yard and was being prepared for the journey, and after breakfast they finished packing their belongings so they could be loaded for transport. Nervous excitement would not allow Lothiriel to remain seated for any length of time and, after noting a second annoyed glance from Lady Morwen, she decided it might be best to go for a walk in the garden. Morwen's small black terrier bounded out the door with her, and she relented in allowing him to come even though he was sometimes troublesome. On this occasion, he seemed content to sniff at all the bushes and race madly along the paths, thus giving her no difficulty.

When she first visited here, she had wondered why the woman kept such an energetic and snappish dog. But, once she was in residence, it became more clear to her. Morlach could be obnoxious, it was true, but he also seemed to unerringly determine who Morwen did not like very much, and would then set about being such an irritant that they cut their visit short. Though Morwen outwardly gave the appearance of trying to control the dog, he was never fully removed from the room until the unwelcome guest had made excuses and bid them farewell. Whatever anyone's thoughts on the subject, no one dared reproach the lady for tolerating the animal's behavior, and certain people quickly learned not to call on Morwen very often.

Lothiriel idly watched the dog digging at the foot of a tree, wondering how he would fare at Minas Tirith. Morwen was determined that he should go with them, and none of Lothiriel's arguments against the idea had been persuasive enough to change her mind. She had a horrific fear that the beast would attack the new king of Gondor and embarrass them all, but since Morwen seemed to like the man she had known – this Thorongil – hopefully that would not happen. If nothing else, Lothiriel intended to argue strenuously for Morlach to be left in Morwen's room whenever they had guests. Her father would be mortified if the dog attacked anyone under his roof.

She suddenly heard the sound of horses, and quickly snatched up the little dog before he could notice and begin to bark. She hastened inside through a back entrance and placed him in his carrier, despite his struggles to avoid it. With any luck, the exercise would have taken the edge off any fretfulness, and he would travel without being too much of a nuisance. "Behave yourself!" she remonstrated with a sigh. She washed her hands before hurrying to greet her family. Already the servants were beginning to scurry about in preparation for their departure.

Likely her father was not expecting it, but Morwen was exiting the house before he had finished greeting Lothiriel. "Let us be off," she instructed succinctly, moving toward her waiting carriage, causing Amrothos to stifle a snicker behind his hand. So much for niceties!

"Indeed," Imrahil said, recovering quickly, and glancing at Eomer and Eowyn who had not even had time to dismount. He sighed softly and then hurried to assist Morwen into the carriage as Lothiriel began a final check to make sure all was in readiness.

"Will you be riding or travel in the carriage with Lady Morwen?" Amrothos queried.

A horse had been saddled for her, but Lothiriel hesitated. After a moment, she gestured for Amrothos to wait and went to discuss the matter with Morwen. "Shall you be well on your own if I ride with my family?" she questioned tentatively. She much preferred doing so, but would acquiesce if Morwen felt strongly about the matter.

"Of course, my dear. I am not made of glass. I am sure you have much to talk about with your family, and likely I shall doze most of the way there. Well, I will if Morlach gives me any peace – hush, you beast!"

Lothiriel smiled as the dog quieted. Morwen had a certain tone of voice that she used when she truly wanted his obedience, and to his credit the terrier never failed to comply at such times.

"Is everything loaded?" Morwen asked, looking out the window toward Lothiriel's packhorse.

"It seems to be, yes. I will go fetch Halgeth and we can be on our way." Quickly Lothiriel struck off toward the house, but Morwen's maidservant was just coming to join them as she reached the front entryway. Once the woman was settled in the carriage with Morwen, Imrahil and Lothiriel mounted and the party set out.

The spring air was filled with joyful chatter and laughter for the first league, though Eomer and Eowyn mostly rode in silence to allow the family their further reunion. Eomer could not help envying the close, easy relationship Imrahil had with his children, wondering if his own family might have been like that if his parents had survived. His musings were disrupted by a shout of protest, and he looked up to see Lothiriel streaking away on her bay palfrey. Amrothos had clearly been caught off his guard in a proposed race and was now hastening to catch his laughing sister.

Eomer drew Firefoot in beside Imrahil, who was smiling indulgently after his children. "It is good to see this! If I ever wondered why we fought, I now have my answer. When we parted company in March, leaving Lothiriel here, I was not sure our family would ever be gathered again in its entirety. And yet, miraculously, we all survived. I have much to be grateful for in my life," the Prince observed.

Eomer smiled, but kept silent. The siblings had concluded their race and were now returning to join them. Amrothos hadn't quite caught up to Lothiriel before they passed the agreed upon marker, and she was teasing him about her win. Though he protested, claiming she had cheated, Eomer suspected that Lothiriel could tell as well as he could, by the expression on Amrothos' face, that he didn't truly mind. And it was understandable. Middle-earth was free for all peoples, the sky was blue and the sun warm, and all around there was new growth. At this moment, there seemed to be a great deal of hope for a bright future.

When they stopped along a creekbank for their dinner, Lothiriel attached a strap to Morlach so he could stretch his legs and relieve himself. Imrahil had managed to entice Morwen out of the carriage so that she might also be refreshed with a brief walk around the clearing, though she returned to the carriage to eat since she would not attempt sitting on the ground. Not wanting her to be alone, Imrahil joined her so that Lothiriel would feel free to stay with the younger people in the group. They did not tarry long over the meal, as all were eager to return to the White City lest they miss out on any of the celebrations.

Soon enough, the encampments on the Pelennor came into their view. Eomer excused himself to check in with Elfhelm, whom he had left in charge of things, saying he would find them later at Imrahil's house or elsewhere in the city. Eowyn was torn between accompanying him and seeking out Faramir as soon as possible, but finally decided on the latter course.

The crowded streets made it difficult to maneuver such a large carriage, so they arranged for Morwen and Lothiriel's belongings to be ferried up the hill, and found a smaller cart to carry the grand lady herself. Morlach had begun barking incessantly at everything around him, until Morwen threw a blanket over his carrier and he quieted in the darkness.

It did not surprise Lothiriel that Morwen was ready for a nap once they reached the townhouse and she had been settled in a room. Halgeth helped her onto the bed while Lothiriel arranged for some tea, and then the maidservant sent Lothiriel on her way, assuring her she needed no assistance in keeping watch over her mistress.

Lothiriel hastened to Eowyn's room and knocked. The door was quickly answered by Eowyn, and she asked, "Would you care to go with me to seek my brothers? Likely they are somewhere with Faramir, and between the two of us we should be able to ferret them out!"

Eowyn smiled, pleased with the offer. She glanced at the room she had been given, then stepped into the hall and closed the door. "Let us go! Though, in truth, I do not know if I can be much of a guide. I usually saw Faramir at the Houses of Healing when he would come to visit, so I am not very much acquainted with the City. With a new king arrived, he might be anywhere."

"Then we will begin with the Steward's residence and go from there. Together we hold sufficient rank to gain access most anywhere that we choose in the city! They cannot remain hidden long if we are persistent!" Lothiriel said, eliciting a laugh from Eowyn.

They met Imrahil in the entrance hall and told him of their plans. "Fine. I will see you at supper then. I have some letters I need to get sent off to Dol Amroth," he told them, moving toward his study as they headed for the door.

The invitation for Eowyn to join her had been an impulsive one, but since they had spoken very little to one another on the journey from Lossarnach, things became awkward as they made their way through the streets. After several long minutes of silence, however, Lothiriel asked, "So how is it that you and my cousin Faramir became acquainted? I have not heard the full story."

Glad for a subject of conversation, Eowyn began her explanation of them both being confined to the Houses of Healing and meeting there. "It was good to have someone at hand who understood how difficult the waiting was," Eowyn admitted. "The warden and other patients were not as aware of the situation, and thus were not so anxious as we – at least so it seemed."

"Faramir is recovered now? Father said something about an arrow, and also that he fell to the Black Breath," Lothiriel pursued.

"I believe his shoulder still troubles him a little – it may always do so – but for the most part he is well. It was the king – Aragorn – who healed him, and me, from the Black Breath," Eowyn explained.

" '_Life to the dying in the king's hand lying'_ – I have heard it said all these many years that the king would also be a healer, but little thought to ever see it proven true," Lothiriel murmured. "He must be very remarkable, this Aragorn. But, did not my father call him by another name…Elessar?"

Eowyn laughed. "Yes! The man seems to have more names than some people have clothes. He took the name Elessar when he was made king, though my brother still calls him Aragorn."

A stop at the Steward's house on the sixth level had not turned up Lothiriel's missing relatives. They stood in the entryway while the senior manservant told Lothiriel what little he knew of their whereabouts, and Eowyn took the opportunity to glance around. This had been Faramir's home for his entire life, though the place had a rather cold feeling to it that was not terribly inviting. To her, it almost seemed that the shadow of Denethor still lay upon the place. Now that Aragorn had chosen to keep Faramir in the position of Steward, they would certainly be spending some time in this house. Even so, she did not think Faramir would mind a few changes to make the place into a more inviting home.

Again underway, they continued their climb upward. Ahead of them was the gate to the uppermost level, and they turned in, readily being passed on by the guards. It felt awkward to Eowyn to be approaching the king's house and citadel without invitation, but Lothiriel was pressing on with no hesitation, so she trusted the girl to know what she was doing. Aragorn had always been a man of easy manners, so presumably he would not yet be to the point where such breaches of protocol would disturb him.

It turned out they were spared any possible embarrassment, for they had barely passed the dead White Tree(5) when they spotted Lothiriel's brothers and Faramir coming toward them from the Citadel. At the sight, Lothiriel lifted her skirts and sprinted forward, flinging herself into the arms of Erchirion, and then Elphir. "I am so pleased to see you both well!" she told them, joy shining in her eyes. Though Eowyn would very much have liked to offer a similar display of greeting to Faramir, she knew it would not be appropriate, so she merely allowed her eyes to answer for her desires.

The five of them fell into step back toward Imrahil's house. "You will, of course, join us for supper, Faramir?" Lothiriel asked. "I am sure Father wishes you to be there if you have time."

"Certainly!" he replied with a smile. "It will be nice for all of us to gather once more under the same roof. It has been too long!"

"What has been happening while we were gone?" Eowyn ventured to ask, and the others listened as Faramir answered for them.

"There has been much to do in preparation for the king to receive embassies from other lands, and make judgements on various matters. Now that Eomer King and Prince Imrahil are returned, we will begin the process on the morrow."

Just as they reached the courtyard of Imrahil's home, they sighted Eomer not far behind them, so they waited for him to catch up. "All is well at the encampment?" Eowyn inquired, making it clear to the gentlemen where Eomer had been.

"It is, but then I would expect Elfhelm to have things well in hand," Eomer acknowledged, eyeing the Steward who stood near his sister.

Faramir's eyebrow quirked upward at the perusal, seeming to realize that Eomer now knew of his intentions toward Eowyn. "My lord king, I do not believe we were properly introduced earlier before your departure. I am Faramir, Steward of Gondor." He offered his hand to Eomer, and after a moment it was accepted in a warrior's clasp.

Eomer was pleased that the man had a firm grip, and did not appear fearful of failing to gain his approval. He liked that sort of self-assurance, though it was not so overt as to be over-confident. But he would not expect Eowyn to care for a weak man. She had been known to bully some into doing what she wished, but she had little respect for such.

"A pleasure," Eomer replied laconically.

As conversation threatened to lapse, Elphir suggested, "Let us go in. We should just have time to ready ourselves for supper." Everyone fell in behind him as he led the way.

They had just stepped into the entry hall when a loud yapping was heard, and Morlach came tearing down the stairs, all bristling indignation at these intruders. He had already claimed this house as his own. Before Lothiriel could react, Eomer scowled down at the small animal, that had covered half the distance toward them, and snapped authoritatively, "Silence!"

Lothiriel thought the dog almost choked on the bark just forming, and he instantly dropped to the floor, cowering submissively. Without another look at the animal, Eomer strode up the stairs and to his room, leaving the others stunned. Suddenly, Lothiriel began to giggle. "I do not think Morlach has ever met his match before encountering the King of Rohan! This should be an interesting experience having the two of them under the same roof!" With that, she scooped the still shivering dog into her arms and took him out to the back garden to let him run before supper, and the others laughingly separated to various rooms.

Faramir settled in the library until the others rejoined him, perfectly content to peruse Imrahil's bookshelves for the duration. Less than quarter of an hour later, the merest sound drew his attention to the doorway where Eomer stood, watching him closely. For several moments, neither spoke, and then Eomer stepped into the room and moved to the window. Over his shoulder he said, "My sister tells me you wish to marry her."

"Yes, my lord, very much so. If you have no objections," Faramir acknowledged.

"And if I do have objections?" Eomer replied, turning to look challengingly at the other man.

Faramir closed the book in his hand and replaced it on the shelf before answering. "Then I will do whatever needs to be done to overcome those objections, my lord. But you should know that Eowyn has accepted me, and I am determined to have her for my wife. I will not easily be gotten rid of through any frivolous excuses." Then he smiled as he added, "Still, I am not disposed to think you an unreasonable man, so I believe I will succeed in winning your approval…eventually."

Eomer turned away and gazed out the window again, causing Faramir to wonder if he had misjudged the matter. But then there was a chuckle, which grew into laughter as the king turned to look at him once more. "I cannot fault your courage, brother! There are not many who would so blatantly confront me, and expect to live to tell the tale!" He sobered, then said quietly, "I consider myself a good judge of character, and even if I were not, many whose judgement I value have spoken well of you. You have my consent to marry."

Faramir was startled by the so-easily-applied appellation of 'brother', but it warmed him nonetheless. "I thank you…Eomer. I shall cherish her always. She is the greatest joy I have ever known." He watched for any disapproval of his informality, but the king did not even seem to notice.

With a snicker, Eomer replied, "Greatest joy, perhaps, but I know my sister. She may also be the greatest challenge you will ever know!"

Just then, they heard the sound of the family descending for supper and exited to the hall to meet them. Eowyn was trailing behind the Dol Amroth men, and she paused to study her brother and Faramir before coming down the final few stairs. It was clear that they had spoken, and their expressions seemed to suggest that things had gone favorably. As she drew near to Faramir, he gave her the tiniest nod of his head, confirming her suspicion, and she beamed with pleasure. Quickly she slipped into Eomer's embrace, murmuring softly, "Thank you!"

Pressing a kiss to her hair, he whispered, "How could I do anything else? I have only ever wanted to see you happy. Even if it means your marrying a Gondorian and leaving the Mark."

Her eyes came up to meet his. "I will stay and help you rebuild, Eomer, and we will still see each other. Do not be troubled." Whether her words helped or not, she could not tell, for Eomer had long had a way of concealing his thoughts and emotions behind an impassive countenance. She would likely just have to give him time to adjust to the idea.

Lothiriel joined them a moment later, saying that Morwen was not yet recovered from the traveling and had chosen to eat in her room. At the look of concern on Eomer's face, she smiled reassuringly at him. "Do not be alarmed, my lord. She is well, just very tired. A good night's rest will help a great deal."

Supper was a gay affair, with much laughter and conversation. Eomer and Eowyn were easily drawn into the family circle, though they left most of the talk to the others. Both were content to simply enjoy the company. All were loath to part when the meal concluded, so they transferred to the library to continue talking well into the evening, at which time Faramir excused himself. He explained that he needed to be up early to set things in motion for the king's gatherings later in the morning, and indicated he would see them all there. His departure was the signal for everyone else to finally say goodnight and head off to their beds as well.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.

ch 2: (5)In the movie, you see the withered tree in the Court of the Fountain begin to bloom before the War is actually over. In the book, however, on June 25th Aragorn and Gandalf go into the mountains and find a sapling of the White Tree, about 3 feet tall and less than 7 years old. They remove the withered tree and plant this sapling in its place. The dead tree was placed in the Silent Street, where the kings and stewards were buried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 3**

As was his habit, Eomer was up with the sun, and quickly dressed. Deciding he could use some time alone before he faced this day, he made for Imrahil's back garden. Spring was richly evident here, with all the flowers in bloom and their fragrance filling the air. Bees buzzed from plant to plant, going about their business, but Eomer took little note of them.

He was happy for Eowyn – he had been truthful about that. But it was going to be very difficult facing life in the Mark all on his own. Once she was wed, he would have no family near him, yet he would be weighed down with the new responsibilities as king. For all the brightness of the future portended by their victory, more and more it seemed to be coming at his expense. Life did not appear so very optimistic for him personally.

Like Eomer, Lothiriel had risen early, and collected Morlach to take him outside. Though servants would have seen to such a menial task, she well knew that Morlach could be disagreeable, and she was used to dealing with him. It was such a little thing, that she saw no reason to impose his ill-temper on anyone else except when necessary. Only as she entered the garden and set the dog down did she notice the king, leaning against a tree and lost in thought. Morlach had also seen the man and started toward him, before realizing it was his nemesis from the previous day and took off in another direction to avoid any contact.

A twig snapped under her foot, and Lothiriel froze where she stood as Eomer wheeled sharply around. His hand fumbled uselessly for a sword that she was relieved he did not carry at present. After only a moment, though, he glimpsed her and ceased his actions. They stood staring at one another until she curtsied and said quietly, "Sincere apologies, my Lord King. I did not mean to invade your privacy. I had hoped to withdraw without disturbing your reverie."

Eomer drew a deep breath and let it out on a heavy sigh. "No, Lady Lothiriel, do not apologize. There is no need. Likely it is best that you do interrupt. Come, join me and speak of amusing things to draw me out of myself."

She laughed lightly, then asked, "What could I possibly have to say that would amuse or entertain a bold, brave, warrior king, my lord?"

Since his arrival, she did not recall seeing him smile very often and those few had looked forced. He did so now, though with a tiredness that seemed to permeate his very being. A shadow lingered in his eyes that suggested he had not entirely found the peace that was slowly encompassing so much of their world.

"Surely you are able to think of something. Tell me of your home, your life or your family. If your father and brothers are to be believed, you float around the palace of Dol Amroth in serene perfection. Such a person must surely be able to amuse a dull king of the northern lands." Eomer hoped the smile on his lips would make him appear as more pleasant company than he felt.

Now she laughed more fully, not expecting such words from a man like this. "I fear my family misleads you, my lord! I am far from the epitome of perfection. Too often I am found barefoot on the seashore when I should be practicing on my harp, and my brothers clearly have forgotten the little pranks I have played upon them over the years! Perhaps being away during such a dreadful war has brought only the good memories to the fore."

He had been gazing off into the distance, but now turned with a raised eyebrow to study her. Her last remark had startled him, but he could not deny how astute it was. Men in battle did not want to remember unpleasant things, only those memories that brought them joy and strengthened them to do what they must do. "Perhaps you are right," he acknowledged, inclining his head to her. "Still, I think I could be amused hearing of bare feet and pranks amongst siblings, if you are willing to share such tales. And my name is Eomer, if you would be so kind. I am not yet accustomed to all the formal deferences shown to me as a new king."

His face darkened at his last remark, and she took that as incentive to heed his request. "Very well, Eomer, but you must promise not to be too shocked by anything I tell you…and you must promise never to inform my father of my indiscretion in revealing such sordid stories outside our family!"

Her voice had dropped to a conspiratorial level, and it brought a chuckle, along with the disappearance of the frown he had earlier worn. "You have my word, my lady."

She scowled reprovingly at him, then glancing left and right, in a seeming attempt to spot any onlookers, told him sternly, "Nay, sir! I shall not call you Eomer if you persist with your formality to me! Two can play your game! We must be equals or I will reveal nothing."

"As you wish! We shall be equals – now reveal your dark secrets to me!" he replied.

Despite the lighthearted nature of their conversation, and his agreement to use her name, Lothiriel was not entirely comfortable sharing stories that were of too intimate a nature. Consequently, she took a moment to search her mind for something suitable as he gazed expectantly at her. All things considered, she thought she preferred any mention of embarrassing incidents to involve her brothers rather than herself.

Several minutes later, Eomer was seated on a bench with his elbows upon the back of it, watching as Lothiriel didn't merely tell him a story but virtually acted it out before him. Her arms flailed wildly in some parts, and she gave a unique voice to each participant, mimicking her family members almost perfectly. Her uninhibited gesticulations brought a smile to his lips, and only barely did he restrain outright laughter. But, after several minutes, she noticed the amusement on his face and froze in mid-sentence, flushing red with embarrassment. While this was normal behavior for her at home, to become so carried away in her storytelling, it was not entirely appropriate in front of a virtual stranger.

"Well," she murmured, not meeting his gaze, "at least you have been amused by my story."

He did laugh now. "Indeed! Very much so! I have never had a tale related to me with such enthusiasm before!"

She lifted her eyes, reluctantly needing to know if he was mocking her, but his expression reflected only pleasure. She allowed the tension to drain from her, and chose to believe he was sincere in his appreciation. Shrugging, she told him, "I get very involved in the story and forget myself. Usually, however, it is only my family who witnesses my…exuberance."

"Then I am honored you shared it with me as well," he assured her, with a cordial nod of his head. "When I asked you to entertain me, I had no idea of your expertise in that regard. I thank you for raising my spirits. But, please, do finish your story. I am eager to know how it ends, though clearly Amrothos did survive!"

It did not take long to bring the tale to its conclusion. It prompted a reminiscence of his own, and Eomer was moved to share it with her. "Once, when I was just a lad –" Eomer's face shone with liveliness as he began to speak, but abruptly he broke off from what he had been about to say, lapsing into a somber silence once more.

Lothiriel was uncertain how to react, but finally ventured, "Eomer? You were saying?"

He blinked, as if in surprise that someone else was with him, as he slowly came out of the reverie that had claimed him. Rubbing tiredly at his face, he gave a sigh and murmured, "Was I ever _just_ a lad? It seems an eternity ago. All I can remember is war and desolation and hopelessness."

He fell again into his own thoughts, but Lothiriel was unwilling to let this blackness so easily claim him. "But that is in the past, and we were victorious. Give it time and I am sure other – better – memories will come to you. I can well imagine you as a laughing boy, riding breakneck across the plains of Rohan – the wind tearing at your hair and laughter bubbling from within. Perhaps you were racing against your sister?"

His brow knit at her words and he stared at her in puzzlement. "How could you know that about me? Eowyn and I often raced, but…"

She laughed. "It is not so difficult to surmise! What else would children of the Riddermark do to occupy themselves?" she asked teasingly, and was rewarded with a return of that smile that was so endearing. She was of the opinion that he really ought to smile more; it was very becoming.

As he did not seem inclined to continue with his original thought, Lothiriel suggested, "It should be almost time for breakfast, Eomer. If you will excuse me, I will go to check on Lady Morwen and see how she fares today."

He nodded in agreement as he stood, and watched as she went to scoop up Morlach before the dog realized he was being taken back inside. When Eomer moved near, to walk inside along with her, the dog eyed him warily from her arms, better behaved than usual.

Since Morwen joined them for the morning meal, it was more subdued than supper the previous night. Her staid demeanor pressed all to more formal behavior and they did not linger when they were done eating. Afterwards, each retired to their room to make ready for the day's activities, beginning with the king's gathering for judgements and capped in the evening with a feast and celebration in the Great Hall of Feasts.

Shortly before the appointed time to gather for walking to the Citadel, Lothiriel went to see if Eowyn was ready, after helping Morwen prepare. A servant had fetched Eowyn's few belongings from the Healing Houses the previous day, but she had only the one dress. Lothiriel had found a couple of her own dresses that might be easily altered, and give Eowyn greater variety in her attire. The seamstress had promised to have one ready for the day's activities.

From the open door, Lothiriel saw Eowyn raise a sword hilt thoughtfully before her. The blade that it had once borne was shattered(6), and only a few shards still were intact on the handle. For several long minutes, Eowyn studied it in silence, until she became aware of Lothiriel's presence. "My cousin had this made for me, several years ago. I do not think he ever fully intended that I truly take up arms to fight, considering the role of shieldmaiden more of a tradition than anything else. But he recognized the importance of my being able to defend myself at need, if there was no one else to do it. Eomer objected to my training, but Theodred prevailed, though even he was amazed at how skilled I became with a blade." She paused in thought, then murmured, "I told Faramir that I would be a shieldmaiden no longer."

"Do you regret that vow?" Lothiriel questioned curiously.

Eowyn's brow knit briefly, but then she shook her head. "No. It will be strange not to practice daily with a sword, but I hope we are now in a time of healing and that arms may be set aside."

Lothiriel replied, "Perhaps…I do not think Faramir will object to your practicing with a sword, if that is your wish. Nor is he likely to consider it a breach of your word to do so. Did you not actually mean that you would no longer seek to go into battle as you did? If that is the case, then your vow holds true even on a practice field."

"You do not think it unseemly for a woman to have a sword, and know full well how to use it?" Eowyn questioned, still gazing at the beautifully-wrought hilt. "I have overheard remarks, that I was not meant to witness, suggesting that is the opinion of most women of Minas Tirith."

Lothiriel stared at the floor before lifting her gaze to Eowyn. "For a woman of Gondor it would indeed be unusual, and most would consider it unseemly. But you are not a woman of Gondor, and who are we to argue against what might be acceptable in your own culture? And, even if it is not acceptable in Rohan either, what right do we have to judge you? We do not know the course of events that led you into battle on the Pelennor, and regardless of what objections might be raised, there is no denying that your presence there was beneficial to us all. I am sure Faramir would not censure your actions, nor do I. Do not heed the idle talk of others."

Eowyn turned to look at her, gratitude in her eyes as she considered Lothiriel's words. "Perhaps you are right. It cannot be said that our lands are fully free of evil yet, and I could well have need to defend myself when Faramir was absent. I will discuss it with him and learn his thoughts. Thank you for suggesting the possibility." As she laid the hilt gently back on the dresser, it suddenly occurred to her that Lothiriel may have come to her room with a purpose. "Did you need me?"

"We are preparing to leave for the Citadel now. Everyone is gathering in the lower hall, if you wish to walk with us," Lothiriel advised.

"I will come," Eowyn replied, glancing around the room and deciding there was nothing that needed doing before she left.

Once they reached the entry hall, they noted everyone was there except for Imrahil and Morwen. "Your father is not joining us?" Eomer asked. That his grandmother might not wish to make the walk was not unexpected, but Imrahil's absence seemed odd.

"He has gone on ahead with Lady Morwen," Lothiriel advised. "As she moves slowly, it will give them more time. We may even catch them before they get there. Are we ready?"

When everyone nodded, Elphir led the way. Eowyn had stiffened somewhat on learning that Morwen was to be on this outing, and Eomer hoped that she would keep her feelings concealed while they were in public. Just as predicted, they caught up with Imrahil and Morwen as they were beginning to ascend the steps to the Citadel, and Lothiriel stepped forward to provide Morwen with another arm to hold onto for support.

Eomer felt a slight twinge of guilt that he had not done so first, but Lothiriel seemed attuned to assisting the older woman and he assuaged his feelings with that thought. A crowd had already gathered, but they gave way in deference to the newcomers. Imrahil guided them near to the Steward's chair where they would have a goodly view of the proceedings. Glancing around, he called to a servant, "Will you bring a chair for Lady Morwen?"

Nearby, murmurs had begun in the crowd at the realization of who was on Imrahil's arm. Queen Morwen had not attended court in a great many years. The man hesitated, then said, "My Lord, in such close quarters it was anticipated that all would stand except for the king and his steward. There is no room for chairs."

Before Imrahil could dispute this, Eomer spoke up. "That may be, but the King of Gondor will not refuse a chair to an honored guest!"

At just that moment, Elessar and Faramir had entered, no doubt overhearing the remark. Without hesitation, Elessar moved toward them, and bowed respectfully to Morwen. "Queen Morwen, it is an honor to have you with us today. Welcome! We shall find you a seat momentarily." He gave a pointed look to the servant who flushed red and scurried instantly away.

Coolly, Morwen looked Elessar up and down. "Well, well – quite the change in you. But I am no longer queen, my lord."

Elessar smiled and with a glance at Eomer replied, "Not officially, perhaps, but until Eomer marries and provides another, the title is still yours. And what else should we call the Queen Mother?" Eomer's confirming nod gave his words weight, and Morwen inclined her head in thanks.

The servant bustled back just then, lugging a chair, and a location was chosen for it before Morwen settled into place. With another bow, Elessar stepped away and climbed the steps to his throne so they could begin. Lord Hurin called everyone to order and then Faramir stepped forward to conduct the matters at hand.

Several judgements were pronounced, including the matter of Beregond. Many were relieved by the very fair decision Elessar made in the matter, and Faramir smiled warmly at the man who had defended his life at such great cost. Though unexpected, Faramir was also pleased with the king's bequest of Ithilien, overwhelmed with the personal regard it reflected. Considering his family's history with the man, he might have expected far less cordiality. Eowyn was beaming with pleasure on his behalf, when he was able to sneak a glance in her direction while Elessar was speaking with Eomer.

At length, all business was concluded and the crowd noisily began to depart, eagerly discussing the events of the morning and their impressions of the new king now that they had witnessed the sort of ruler he would be. As it was nearing the dinner hour, Lothiriel knew that Morwen would become restive if not allowed to eat soon, and went to attend her. Just as she reached her, Elessar stepped up to the former queen and invited, "Will you join me and a few others for a light repast, my lady?"

Morwen eyed him briefly and then nodded. "I would be delighted." She offered her hand so he could assist her in standing, and he readily did so. Tucking her hand about his arm, he led the way to the small private dining chamber where cold meats were already being set out.

"Lothiriel, would you fetch me a plate of food, dear?" Morwen asked, waving at the meal spread on the sideboard, before allowing Elessar to see her seated at the table. As usual, she assumed the request would be honored and did not wait for a response. Without hesitation, Lothiriel moved into action, selecting foods that she knew Morwen liked in the small portions she favored.

Eomer's mouth tightened at the sight, wondering why the girl was so eager to do his grandmother's bidding without question. She was nobility in her own right and had no need to be waiting on anyone else. Still, if she did not object, he supposed it was not his place to interfere, even if he had little regard for people who were so readily subservient to others. Somehow he had expected Imrahil's daughter to exhibit more backbone. Silently, he took up a plate and joined the others in dishing out his own food.

Seating had not been assigned, so each took a chair wherever they chose, chatting amicably amongst themselves. Elessar had placed Morwen next to him, and Eomer found himself across from her. Eating had taken precedence for several moments, but then Morwen turned to the man beside her and said, "Well, my lord, you have been little seen, in Rohan or Gondor, since you took your leave of Ecthelion so many years ago. One does wonder what you have been doing all this time."

Unflappable as ever, Elessar merely replied with an easy smile. "_All this time_ encompasses nearly forty years, my lady. It would be difficult to briefly account for my doings. Suffice it to say that I have been…busy, acting for the good of everyone."

Eomer's mouth twitched slightly at the response, but he kept his eyes on his plate and continued eating in silence. At Cormallen, Aragorn had shared some of his history with a small group of friends; 'busy' was certainly an understatement of facts, but essentially the truth.

Morwen wasn't finished yet, however, and pursued, "And did that busyness include the finding of a good woman? A king does best with a queen beside him, if for no other reason than to produce heirs, though certainly she can accomplish far more if given the chance. I never saw that you took much notice of the ladies in the Mark, despite their evident interest in you."

Elessar's smile was inscrutable. "I have had little time for romance, my dear lady, but as you say it must be given attention now that I am king."

It was a noncommittal answer, and Eomer saw his grandmother's eyes narrow slightly as she looked at the king, quietly continuing to eat. To her credit, she let the subject drop, at least for the moment.

"Perhaps when you have some time," she suggested, "you would be willing to share a few tales of your adventures with me. I do not get around much these days, and so my sole entertainment is provided by guests who tell me of their doings."

Since the woman rarely left her home, Eomer wondered if she expected the king to travel to Lossarnach to _entertain_ her with stories, but he supposed that was between the two of them. Though Aragorn had made mention of his time spent serving Thengel, he had said little of any dealings he had with Morwen. Eomer found he was curious to learn more about what each of them knew of the other.

Lothiriel, who had taken the seat Morwen reserved next to her, now joined in the conversation. "King Elessar, I hear that you have traveled far and wide – surely by now you have seen virtually all of Middle-earth."

He smiled in her direction, saying, "Not all, I am certain, but a great deal. I was born in Eriador among my kinsmen of the Dunedain, but later was fostered among the Elves with Elrond of Rivendell. I have spent time in the Shire and Bree-land, gone east into Rhun and south into Harad, as well as spent time on the borders of Mordor. And, of course, I have spent much time in both Gondor and the Riddermark."

"Oh my!" Lothiriel exclaimed. "You are well traveled, indeed. But, as you are to be king of the reunited kingdoms of Gondor and Anor, I suppose it is only appropriate, and useful, that you be so familiar with your kingdom. I am sure it will stand you in good stead."

"I am sure it will," Elessar acknowledged, with a smile and a nod of his head. "I suspect that now I will not have so much time or freedom to become acquainted with our world, and I wish to be a good and useful king to all my people, not just those residing in the large cities."

Morwen had now turned her attention to Faramir, who was seated the other side of Eowyn from her brother and across the table from the former queen. "So, my lord, you are now Prince of Ithilien – a great honor, and a great challenge." Her eyes flicked to Eowyn momentarily before she added, "But, with the right woman at your side, I am sure you are quite capable of returning it to its former glories. Your brother was a fine man, but he was first and foremost a soldier – and that is what we needed him to be. You, I think, are likely to prove a most excellent builder and restorer. And that is what we very much need now." She paused for the merest time and then said quietly, "My condolences on your loss. I well understand what you must feel."

Faramir's eyes met hers evenly, though his jaw tensed perceptibly. "I believe that you do, my lady, and I thank you for your kind sympathies. You have my condolences in return. Though I never had occasion to meet your son, I have heard from reliable sources what an impressive man and king he was. A great loss to us all, I am sure."

The discussion was moving in a direction that made Eomer uncomfortable, and his gaze had become almost fixated on his plate of half-eaten food. To his surprise, it was Lothiriel who sought to turn things to lighter topics. "My lord Eomer, will you tell us something of the Riddermark? Lady Morwen has spoken of it to me many times, and I am eager to make a visit and see it with my own eyes now that the friendship between our lands is renewed and the danger has been conquered. Edoras stands upon a hill also, similar to Minas Tirith?"

If Morwen had told her as much as she indicated, he felt sure she already knew the answer to her question, but he appreciated her effort to ease the mood settling upon them. "It is, though it sits upon the top of a hill separate from the nearby White Mountains, whereas Minas Tirith rises up the side of the mountain. Here you have much stone used in your buildings, but we make greater use of wood."

He paused for a moment, envisioning his home, but it was Eowyn who continued. "North of the River Entwash is mostly grassland, and sparsely populated. That is mainly where the horse herds are found. The Westfold is more the farmland, though we have herds there also, and the Eastfold is the most heavily populated as it lies between Edoras and Gondor along the Great West Road."

"You were born at Edoras?" Lothiriel queried, before taking another bite.

"No, both my brother and I were born at Aldburg, east of Edoras and the original home of the king. When Meduseld was built and the king moved there, the home was given to one of his younger sons, and passed down to our family through our father. Ever since our parents died, I have spent most of my time at Edoras, but Eomer made Aldburg his base while serving as Third Marshal."

Morwen re-entered the conversation with a question that silenced everyone. "And how is Betersel these days? I can only imagine she is even more capable than when I recommended her as housekeeper."

Both Eomer and Eowyn stared at her in astonishment, and then stole a quick glance at each other. Neither had ever heard that there was a connection between Betersel and their grandmother, and they had never particularly given any thought to how she came to be of service in their household.

Having been the last to see Betersel, and spent more time in her company, Eomer took it upon himself to reply. "She is well. And, yes, as capable as ever. I did not realize you knew her."

"But of course I did. I suggested her to Theodwyn not long after she married Eomund. His former housekeeper was getting on in years and wished to retire. Betersel had served at Edoras for a good many years and I saw her great potential. It was just the sort of opportunity she needed to further herself. Not all servants do well at being in charge of others, but it was clear she had the makings of an excellent head housekeeper. I am glad to hear my judgement was not flawed."

"Will you be returning to Rohan for your son's funeral?" Faramir inquired. "If so, perhaps there will be time for you to stop at Aldburg and see Betersel."

Morwen considered the matter briefly as she chewed a mouthful of food. She seemed oblivious to the tension the question had caused in her grandchildren, but at length she nodded. "I believe I shall attempt it, if my grandson does not object." She looked benignly at Eomer, though he thought he detected a slight challenge in her gaze.

With a shrug, he told her, "The choice is yours. If you feel up to the journey. Remember, it is much farther than the distance from Lossarnach to Minas Tirith. It will take a fortnight as we travel with the funeral wain."

It wasn't clear whether he was trying to discourage her coming or merely stating the facts for her consideration – either was a possibility. "I am no stranger to hardship," she replied quietly. "I shall manage."

Eomer and Eowyn shared another glance, but neither said anything further, and Imrahil turned the conversation by discussing Elessar's plans for the next few weeks. The others occasionally chatted amongst themselves, but for the most part, it was a quiet group and the meal ended not long after.

xx

Eomer and Eowyn were due to leave within the week to head home, and most of their time was occupied with preparations for that. As Elessar had much need of Imrahil's counsel, Elphir returned to Dol Amroth to oversee their homeland while his father, sister and brothers remained. Lothiriel was delighted to stay, not wishing to be separated from the bulk of her family so soon after being reunited, though she was uncertain as to Morwen's plans.

One day, as they were taking tea together in the late morning, she ventured to inquire. "How long do you wish to remain at Minas Tirith, my lady? Until your grandchildren leave, or longer? You are, of course, welcome to stay with us as long as you choose. I am merely curious."

Morwen was quite sure this was indeed curiosity rather than an attempt to get rid of her. There was no guile in Lothiriel. "As you are so gracious, I thought perhaps it wise if I remain here. Eomer will return in just a few months to take Theoden home, and it would lessen the amount of traveling I had to do."

"Very wise," Lothiriel agreed. "Shall we send for more of your clothes? You only brought a modest amount with you, anticipating a brief sojourn here."

"Likely that is a good idea. And summer will be upon us soon. It can get very warm in the Mark, so I will need less heavy clothing. You might keep that in mind, also, and send for more of your own clothing, or have some made up. Perhaps Eowyn would give you some guidance before she leaves. The two of you seem to be getting along well."

"Yes. I have enjoyed coming to know her. She is very reserved in revealing much of her inner thoughts, but still I like her. And Faramir is totally smitten! I have never seen him behave so boyishly as he does around her! It is quite the change in him, and most welcome," Lothiriel said with a laugh.

"True. Denethor was not an easy man to please, especially by anyone other than Boromir. Denethor and Faramir were so much alike – I wonder if that played some part in his coldness. Or perhaps he somehow blamed Faramir for the death of his wife, though that hardly seems warranted. In some respects, the deaths of both Denethor and Boromir are greatly to Faramir's advantage. Now he will be judged on his own considerable merit and not compared to another, or burdened with the low esteem in which he was held by his father. I can envision great things for that young man."

"Well, at any rate, he is madly in love with Eowyn and very content serving the new king. I am thrilled for him," Lothiriel replied.

Their conversation was on her mind when Lothiriel next saw Eowyn, so she asked about clothing for the climate in Rohan, and was given welcome advice. In return, Eowyn questioned her more closely about Gondorian society, standards and practices. Until Eowyn's departure, the pair spent some portion of each day in discussion of various topics, and readily formed a bond of friendship. For Eowyn's part, she was glad to have made a friend here in the land she would soon make her home. Though the girl lived much farther to the south, she was still more likely to be in her company than with anyone from her homeland.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.

ch 3: (6)In the movie, Eowyn drops her sword intact after fatally stabbing the Witch King, but in the book the blade shatters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 4**

One amusing aspect of the departure of Eomer and Eowyn was Morlach's reversion to his usual ill temper. Amrothos had attempted to follow Eomer's example by giving forceful commands, but it was clear that Morlach did not find him so intimidating as the king had been. Amrothos' efforts were summarily ignored and Morlach soon ruled the roost in this new house, keeping everyone on their toes.

Since Morwen was to be with them some time, Lothiriel thought it best not to subject everyone to Morlach on a regular basis. She arranged for a large enclosure to occupy a portion of the garden. Each morning she would deposit Morlach inside for several hours, and then do so again in the afternoon. He had protested mightily at first, but when she did not heed him he finally reconciled himself to the exile. Even so, he expressed his displeasure with a good deal of digging, and Lothiriel was painfully aware of how much repair would need doing to the garden once he was gone.

Life had settled into something of a routine by the time Eomer was due to arrive in July. On Mid-year's Day, the king had wed Lady Arwen, an elf woman who arrived with a large riding of elves the day before. All had been stunned by this new development, and though there was much disgruntlement among the ladies at the loss of so eligible a marital prospect, all were delighted by the hope of an heir to the throne.

The elves, and other visitors to the king, were all planning for the trip to Rohan, so there was much preparation taking place. Additionally, Faramir and Elessar had organized loads of supplies to be taken, both to help with the keeping of so many guests while at Edoras, but also the surplus to be left behind to aid the Mark in its recovery.

With the journey to Rohan much on everyone's minds, it prompted Lothiriel to broach a subject that had been in her thoughts ever since meeting Eomer and Eowyn. As she sat with Morwen one afternoon, only a couple of days before Eomer's expected arrival, she took the opportunity to inquire.

"My lady, if I may ask, why did you leave Rohan and not return?" Lothiriel queried hesitantly, uncertain how the question would be received, since an explanation had never been offered.

With a heavy sigh, Morwen closed her eyes, increasing Lothiriel's discomfort, though she did not feel she could excuse herself from the room with the query hanging between them. At length, Morwen brought her gaze to bear upon the girl and nodded. "Yes, I suppose it should be known. There have long been whispered speculations, but the full truth ought to be told to someone before I am gone and it is lost. Perhaps, when they are more willing to hear it, you will share it with my grandchildren."

She fell silent for several long minutes before beginning. "My life has not been an easy one. I married a man much older than I was, though I loved him dearly. We lived in Gondor during the early part of our marriage, only returning to his homeland when his father died. My children were born in each place: three in Gondor and two in the Mark. Despite Thengel being ruler there, we both were very much attached to Gondor, and visited often. Possibly because of that, two of my daughters married men of Gondor. Minleoth lived at Minas Tirith and Ethelwyn in Lossarnach. Tamleoth never found a man that suited her and so never married at all.

"But gradually my life began to unravel. My father passed away in 2972, and then my only brother was killed by corsairs while traveling to Dol Amroth. His ship was attacked and none were left alive. My mother had died several years previously, as had my brother's wife, so that left only me of our family since my brother had no children. Then tragedy struck even closer to home when my beloved Thengel died in 2980. I did my best to hold together what little was left of my dear ones, especially since Theoden needed me more than ever to care for his only son and heir. Orcs were becoming an increasing worry and my son was much occupied in trying to keep the Mark safe. But my woes were not over."

She lapsed into thoughtful silence, and Lothiriel considered what she had learned so far. Certainly it drew a much different picture than the vague one she had always imagined from what little she knew. "So why would you leave if you were needed at Edoras?" she asked, confused by that point. "Surely your help in rearing Theodred was necessary for many years."

"It was," Morwen acknowledged, "but when the boy reached manhood, there was little more that I could do for him. He joined an eored and was beginning his training for battle. I would have seen very little of him. By that time, Minleoth had already succumbed to death due to complications of childbirth. She had married late in life and it took even longer for her to conceive a child. Neither she nor the babe survived. Just a few years later, Tamleoth was traveling to the Hornburg to visit friends there when their party was attacked by orcs. Only a couple of men survived the assault. Mercifully, my daughter was killed quickly and not made to suffer torment at the hands of those beasts.

"And, so, when Ethelwyn fell ill in 2994, Theodred was grown and Theoden had come into his own as king. I felt my place should be in Lossarnach, caring for my daughter. Not long after I arrived, her only child – a little girl – also became ill. Despite all that the Healers could do, they were not spared. The fever took a great many people that winter. For a time, I helped my grieving son-in-law, but eventually I moved into my family's home and have remained there ever since. I had no heart for traveling any farther, and the home of my childhood gave me some little comfort in those dark times. I did long to see my remaining children again, and enjoy their children, but it seemed too great a distance to go, and they never managed to come visit me. Eventually, I think we all stopped trying and just accepted the way things were. Then Theodwyn and Eomund were lost to me as well, and my grief consumed me. I could not face returning there. I know I am considered cold and unfeeling for this decision, but I assure you it was not made lightly, and I am not entirely without regret. But I cannot change the past, and we all must accept it."

Morwen's face, always so smooth and calm, now was etched with the accumulation of grief she had known over her long life. Impulsively, Lothiriel caught one of the old woman's hands between her own. The gesture earned her a warm smile of gratitude, then Morwen said tiredly, "I feel a headache coming on, my dear. Would you be so kind as to fetch a cool cloth while I lie down?"

"Certainly!" Lothiriel quickly assured her, as they both rose. Once she was certain Morwen was steady, Lothiriel moved away to the kitchen while the older woman walked slowly toward her room.

This new information certainly altered Lothiriel's view of the situation. She could not even conceive of losing eleven family members in a mere thirty years, and now another two had been killed during this great War that was just fought. The immensity of the sorrow Morwen carried would likely have destroyed a lesser woman. Lothiriel hoped that one day her grandchildren would seek to know the truth and realize the great disservice they had shown her.

Over the next few days, Morwen was subdued and Lothiriel was sorry if her questions had dredged up painful memories. Still, as she had said, the truth needed to be known before Morwen was gone and could no longer tell her side of it.

Some packing had already taken place, but with Eomer planning to be in the White City for several days, there was no rush. His arrival was met with much cheering, as Gondor had not forgotten their great debt to the Rohirrim. On this visit, he had been invited to stay at the king's house, and a feast was held in his honor the night of his arrival.

Though Morwen had been included as a guest, by late afternoon she had decided against attending, not feeling equal to a walk to the upper level. It seemed to Lothiriel that more and more she was beginning to show her age, and she wondered how much longer Morwen would be with them.

When Imrahil's family arrived that evening for supper and were greeted by Eomer, Lothiriel saw Eomer's eyebrow rise questioningly as he noticed Morwen was not in their midst. Not waiting for him to inquire, she offered, "I hope you will excuse your grandmother, my lord. The walk up the hill was more than she could face this evening. Perhaps one night you will join us for supper at our house so she may greet you properly."

Eomer gave a noncommittal nod in response, sparking a momentary irritation in her. She did wish he would make more effort, even if it was not for her to judge. However, knowing Morwen so well, and very much liking the lady, she was sorry he could not admit to his grandmother's good qualities and forget old grievances. His momentary flashes of concern for Morwen were quickly suppressed and not pursued, though they did not escape Lothiriel's notice. She suspected his natural inclination was toward a sympathy he was too stubborn to admit.

xx

The morning of their departure, Imrahil arranged for a cart to carry Morwen down to meet her carriage at the gates an hour before everyone else set out. He realized the streets would soon be crowded and it was best to be ahead of Eomer's party. Lothiriel accompanied her, intending to begin the day riding in the carriage. She was unused to riding for extended periods, and thought it best to only make use of her horse for an hour or so each day.

Morlach's carrier had once again been covered to keep him silent, and Imrahil's stablemaster had given Lothiriel a mild sedative to mix in his food if she deemed it necessary to calm him further during the journey. She had been tempted to try to talk Morwen into leaving him at Minas Tirith, but without Morwen there to control him, she knew he would be impossible for the servants to manage. And, considering his relationship with Eomer, she suspected he might prove better behaved in their company than if left behind!

The weather had warmed considerably in recent weeks, and it only got hotter the farther they traveled along the Great West Road. At least there was a breeze that helped somewhat, but it was sticky and unpleasant most of the time. Imrahil's large, airy pavilion was welcome in the evening, blocking out the setting sun but allowing the breeze to blow through. Erchirion had acquired a small bed that could be readily dismantled and put together again. It enabled Morwen to sleep off the ground, for which she was most grateful. She and Lothiriel shared the back portion of the tent while the rest of the family occupied the front, separated from each other by cloth partitions.

The tent was to serve a dual purpose: shelter during their travel and housing upon their arrival. Imrahil and Morwen would be given rooms, and Lothiriel was to stay with Morwen, but Amrothos and Erchirion were going to set up the tent outside the city walls so as not to occupy much-needed accommodations. With so many guests in attendance, they were not the only ones to do so, and only those of the highest rank or with special needs were given actual rooms within Edoras. Faramir could have requested a room, but elected to stay with his cousins in order to set an example for others. Consequently, the burden was eased for Eowyn in housing the visitors.

Perhaps because they would soon be leaving Middle-earth for Valinor, the elves were more sociable, and Faramir took every opportunity to talk with them and learn as much as he could first hand. He knew that a great deal of the time Eowyn would be too busy to share his company, but he was well able to occupy the day. Being here also gave him the chance to learn of Rohan and its people. He had never been able to travel so much or so freely as he would have liked, and it was an added delight to now be able to do so.

Lothiriel split her time between attending Morwen and trying to assist Eowyn in any way that she could, though the latter had the situation too well in hand to much accept her offers. When neither woman needed her, Lothiriel wandered down to the encampment to visit her family and took a look at the town along the way there.

She had wondered how Morwen felt about her return to Rohan after so many years, but the woman had confided little during the course of their journey. A brief stopover at Aldburg had been made, and she seemed to enjoy seeing Betersel once more. It wasn't until two days after their arrival at Meduseld, though, that she finally offered to share her feelings. Lothiriel had dinner brought to their room, as Morwen found the Hall a bit too boisterous with so many guests eating there.

When they finished eating, Morwen pushed her plate away and leaned back thoughtfully in her chair, sipping at some wine. "It is the same, and different," she mused aloud, causing Lothiriel to look up.

"Edoras?" the girl clarified.

"Edoras, Meduseld, even Aldburg – the whole of the Mark. Some part of me thought nothing would have changed, but that was a foolish notion. But one thing has not changed – the Eorlingas are much the same people as they ever were. Honest and plain-spoken. Most are too young to know of me personally, but those that do are watching me warily, wondering at my sudden return. They dare not speak of it, but they watch and wonder," she said.

"That is only natural, I am sure. Do you think Eomer King has told them anything of your situation?" Lothiriel asked.

"I do not know. I suspect not. He does not seem to be one who speaks much of private matters. Possibly Eowyn has been more forthcoming. Have you heard anyone say anything?" Morwen inquired, glancing at Lothiriel.

"No," Lothiriel admitted, "though I do not get a sense of…anger or disappointment. If anything, I believe they are mostly just curious."

"Mmmm, perhaps," Morwen murmured. "And what of Eomer – how do the people view him?" she asked, changing the subject. "Tell me what you have seen," Morwen instructed, relaxing in her chair and resting her head on the back.

"I have only had a few occasions to see Eomer King out among the people," Lothiriel replied thoughtfully, "but when I have, he seems much at ease with them and they with him. There is almost a _warmth_ between them, though that is not quite the right word – perhaps 'warm regard' is better. They like and admire him, but they also have great respect for him, both as a man and as their king. Not all rulers are able to achieve such. I know my father has accomplished it to some extent, but he has lived and ruled in far different circumstances. Both Eomer and King Elessar are men who have lived and worked among the people, and then risen to their present position, whereas my father was born and lived in the ruling house from the very beginning. I think…I think it will prove a very good thing in the new age to have kings who are so well acquainted with the lives of their people. They will better know how to wisely see to their needs. And both have earned their adulation, not merely received it by way of inheritance."

Morwen's eyes were closed as she listened to Lothiriel's discourse, but she nodded at the wisdom of the girl's remarks. "Yes, that is very true. The people will forgive them a few false steps in their ruling if they already respect and admire their kings. It gives said kings more time to learn their way and take on the new challenges they face, without opposition." She paused, in thought, then added, "I am pleased to hear it. Certainly within Meduseld, it is plain that he has earned their respect, and even their love. That will serve him in good stead as king. And despite his youth, they seem to trust him. That can be more difficult to accomplish, but a sober man such as he likely makes it easier."

"From what I have heard," Lothiriel told her, "he has been serving the Mark since he came of age. Eowyn says he joined an eored then and his natural abilities quickly drew notice. Your son made him Third Marshal at just twenty-six years, a very young age for such a responsibility."

"Yes," Morwen acknowledged, "and I was told by Betersel that he more than met the challenge. A good thing, too, with Grima plying his treachery at Meduseld. Theodred would have needed someone he could trust watching over the East-mark while he marshaled the West-mark." She paused, then said softly, "My dear Theodred. How I wish I might have seen him once more. For all the grimness our world faced, he kept a cheery outlook and ready smile. I do not believe anything warmed my heart so much as hearing his laughter ringing through the Golden Hall. I wish you could have known him."

She smiled then and gave a chuckle. "And it seems _very_ odd to be in Meduseld with Thorongil here once more, only him now a king in his own right! Did you know that he attended me when Theodwyn was born? She was breech and for a time it did not seem as though I would survive the birthing, but he had elvish training in the healing arts. Through his intervention, both Theodwyn and I pulled through after a long and difficult labor."

"Indeed! Our King is a man of many talents, it would seem," Lothiriel answered. "But, then, he did aid those with the Black Breath. I should not be surprised. With all that he has done in his life, I almost wonder if he will not find it too tame being king and sitting in meetings all the time. I cannot deny his regal bearing, but such a man seems to belong out of doors, do you not think?"

"Aye," Morwen agreed, "but the same might also be said of Eomer. I am not sure he will settle easily into his new role as king either. Perhaps that they are such good friends will enable them to help one another make the transition. I do not doubt that both have the ability, but I think they will struggle at times with the confinement of it all."

"Still, Eomer may have the easier time of it," Lothiriel observed. "In Gondor, we like to safely lock up our kings in pearly towers, so none may endanger them. Here, I see Eomer able to walk freely about the town. I cannot imagine Elessar being permitted such freedom. At least a half dozen guards would need to attend him on any outing within the City, and more if he stepped outside the gates!"

Morwen laughed deeply, greatly amused by this assessment. "True, and can you fathom any man less in need of such personal protection than Elessar? That he has lived so long, ranging all over Middle-earth and even facing down the Dark Lord in his lair, is a testament to his survival skills. If he were attacked, I think it more likely he would rescue his guards than the reverse!"

The mood had lightened considerably with this final topic of conversation, and Lothiriel was pleased to see Morwen looking relaxed. She had never known the woman to be so tense and close-mouthed as she had been since arriving at Edoras. She was glad they had cleared the air with their discussion. Hopefully, now the lady would feel free to voice any concerns that might be troubling her.

Morlach was nudging at Morwen's hand and she commented, "I believe he needs to go outside. Will you take him, dear?"

"Of course," Lothiriel replied, rising from her chair.

Morlach in Rohan had been a marvel. If he had thought the king of Rohan was intimidating, he found that the man's home was no less so. The much larger dogs that lived here viewed the terrier as nothing more than a tasty morsel, and Lothiriel felt sure that if she put Morlach down in the Golden Hall and turned her back momentarily, he would be gone in a single gulp. For Morlach's part, he had recognized his own insignificance here, and was more than content to shelter in Lothiriel's arms or close to her side when out of Morwen's room. And Lothiriel was grateful that he had enough sense not to challenge the other dogs and make it difficult for her to keep him safe. Eomer's dogs were well trained and left Morlach alone while he was with Lothiriel, but it was clear they desired to find the pampered pooch on his own for even the briefest second.

The result of all this was that Morlach's manners were greatly improved, and Lothiriel found she almost liked the little dog. In fact, his manners were so much better that she was almost tempted to let a servant tend to him, except that she did not wish to add to the burdens of Meduseld's staff. Tending all the guests was more work than usual, and she had time to deal with Morlach. Occasionally Halgeth would see to the dog when Lothiriel was otherwise occupied, but she had enough to do in caring for Morwen, and with few responsibilities here, Lothiriel was far more at leisure to handle the task.

Lothiriel had found an unkempt garden out behind Meduseld. It was much overgrown and badly needed tending, though she could understand why it might have fallen into such a forgotten state in recent years when there were more pressing concerns. It was quiet and secluded, and made a good place for Morlach's sojourns with nature.

While attaching the strap to Morlach's collar, Lothiriel mentioned to Morwen where it was that she took the little dog, and the older woman's eyes brightened. "Indeed? I shall come with you," she announced, unexpectedly shoving up from her chair.

The pair made their way down a side passage that a servant had kindly shown Lothiriel so she could avoid going through the Hall where the household dogs were in residence. As Lothiriel pushed open the outer door and Morwen stepped into the light, she gave a gasp, causing Lothiriel to glance curiously at her.

"My garden – my beautiful garden!" Morwen exclaimed softly, gazing with dismay at the untended ground. She moved slowly out onto the terrace, perusing the disarray before her. "This used to be one of the finest gardens ever seen, even in Gondor," she murmured, "and just look at it now!" She fingered some leaves on a withered plant, and they crumbled at her touch.

Setting Morlach on his feet, Lothiriel moved up beside her, laying a consoling arm around her shoulders. "I am sure it will be again. With the War now ended, such frivolous matters can draw more attention. I am sure this neglect was not by design or intent."

"No, of course not, but still it saddens me. It seems to symbolize the decline in the great house of Eorl. I almost feel that the Mark cannot be renewed until this is," Morwen opined.

"Then let us make a start on it," Lothiriel said decisively. "I shall ask Eowyn if I may work here until we depart. Doing a little each day should see some progress, and perhaps it will inspire them to continue once we are gone."

Morwen smiled gratefully at her, but asked, "Are you sure you wish to do that? This will take a great deal of work. I did not mean to suggest –"

"I know what you meant, and yes I do wish to do this. It shall be my small contribution to the Mark's restoration. If you will watch Morlach for a few moments, I shall go speak to Eowyn now."

Morwen nodded agreeably, and took the dog's leash as Lothiriel went back inside. It did not take long to locate Eowyn, in the main Hall arranging supper with the cook. Lothiriel caught her eye, and when she finished, Eowyn signaled her over. "Lothiriel! I have had so little time for you since your arrival – there has been so much to do. You have settled in well?"

"Quite," Lothiriel assured her, "but there is a matter I would mention to you." She quickly explained her discovery of the garden and desire to improve it during her stay. "Would that be acceptable to you?"

Eowyn hesitated, glancing in the direction of Eomer's study as if wondering what he might say on the subject, but then smiled. "Of course, if you wish, but it is not necessary. We were eventually intending to restore it ourselves."

"I am sure you were, but there are more pressing matters at hand for you," Lothiriel assured her. "I will do what little I can and it will give you a start. Perhaps there is a widow who needs employment and could carry on after I am gone. Oh, and would it be possible to carry a chair out there? Lady Morwen established the garden and would enjoy sitting with me as I work to tend it."

Eowyn's smile tightened at this news, but at length she merely shrugged. "That can be arranged. But are you certain she has not persuaded you to do something you do not wish? You did not come here to work, you know."

Lothiriel smiled sincerely. "No, the idea was all mine, though she appreciates it. As to the work, well I enjoy gardening anyway, and this shall be my small effort on Rohan's behalf. I wish I could do more to help you recover. Your people have suffered so very much."

Eowyn was visibly moved and reached out to clasp Lothiriel's arm. "Thank you! That is most kind. If all were so solicitous we would be back on our feet in no time. I will have a chair and gardening tools brought within the hour. Do you have gloves?"

"Only my riding gloves. If you have something more appropriate, I would appreciate it. And a cloth to kneel upon."

"Part of the reason the garden is in such disrepair is that the gardener retired and was never replaced. He still lives in town and I believe he would be willing to direct what is needed, even if he is no longer able to do the actual work himself," Eowyn explained. "I will send word to him now and let you know when all is in readiness."

"Thank you!" Lothiriel said, "and now I must go check on Morwen and Morlach. She will be ready to sit down, and likely he will need more of a walk than she could give him." Excusing herself, she moved away, and Eowyn watched her go.

She had mixed emotions about all of this. While Eowyn liked Lothiriel a great deal, the woman's relationship with her grandmother put a damper on things. If she saw Morwen through Lothiriel's eyes, perhaps things would be different, but it was not so. With Lothiriel, Morwen was clearly warm and engaging, and yet she had distanced herself from her own grandchildren. A guilty niggling at the back of Eowyn's thoughts reminded her Morwen had made friendly overtures since their being reunited with her in Lossarnach, and met only rebuff from the siblings. Eowyn did not like feeling guilty, nor think she should. The situation was of Morwen's making, not hers. If anyone should feel guilty it was her grandmother. Refusing to consider the matter any longer, she shoved her vexing thoughts away and went to fetch someone to deal with Lothiriel's request.

Eowyn was not entirely unprepared the next morning when the outburst came. "Eowyn! Why is Lady Lothiriel working in our garden? Was this Morwen's doing?" Eomer demanded.

"Lothiriel assured me that the idea was her own, and I took her at her word," Eowyn replied mildly, crossing her arms in defiance of his anger. "If she wishes to please Morwen with such an act, that is no concern of ours, Brother. Let her do it if that is her desire."

"It is inappropriate!" Eomer snapped. "She is Imrahil's daughter and a guest in our house!"

"A guest who _asked_ to be allowed to do this. It would be rude to refuse her!" Eowyn retorted. "_Especially_ since she is Imrahil's daughter! If you think you can change her mind about it, by all means, attempt to do so!"

Eomer turned on his heel and stormed away. This wasn't really about Lothiriel anyway. With the funeral now upon them, his nerves were raw. Every little thing seemed to irritate him these past few days, and Morwen presuming to make herself at home at Meduseld after all these years was just another annoyance added to all the others. That Lothiriel was assisting her in doing so was beyond belief. He had thought the girl had some sense, even if his grandmother did not. He did not want to risk a confrontation, so he moved to his study and sequestered himself there for the next hour until he could calm his agitation. No matter what Morwen did to provoke his anger, even using Lothiriel to accomplish it, he did not wish to offend Imrahil. The Prince and his family were innocent in this matter and Eomer did not want to take his problems out on them.

By the noonday meal, Eomer had his temper under control once more. He had spent the morning steeling himself for what was to come. There was an hour's ease after the meal for all to rest and ready themselves, and then the slow trek began to the burial mounds. A small cart had taken Morwen down the hill directly after the meal, and she waited in Imrahil's tent until the appointed time. Amrothos had hauled a small chair out for her use and she was situated front and center where the mourners gathered. During the funeral proceedings, she revealed nothing of her emotions, but Lothiriel kept a hand upon her shoulder throughout, knowing how difficult this must be.

When the ceremony was concluded, and all began to return to Edoras after the tomb was closed, Morwen murmured gratefully, "Thank you, dear girl. A mother is not meant to outlive her children, yet here lies my last one. And I am likely to join them soon enough. But I am pleased to see how much Eomer and Eowyn cared for their uncle. I should have been greatly disappointed if Theoden had not engendered such feeling in his sister's children."

Lothiriel's grip tightened briefly in understanding, but she said nothing, and they silently remained where they were for several minutes. At length, Morwen patted her hand and sighed. "I am ready to go back, if you will fetch the cart, my dear."

With a gesture, Lothiriel signaled to the waiting servants, and they were soon settled and making the trek upward. The main hall was crowded with those wishing to greet the king and offer condolences, so they circled around the edge and made their way to their room as quickly as possible. With a sigh of relief, Morwen sank onto her bed and stretched out. "One would not think such a thing could be so tiring, but I suppose it is the emotion that saps all one's energy. I will rest until supper, I think. Go and join the others if you wish, my dear. I shall be fine on my own, and I am sure Halgeth will be looking in momentarily, as soon as she learns we are returned."

"Very well," Lothiriel replied. "Do you need anything before I go? Water, food?"

"No, nothing. Just rest. Just rest," she murmured, her breathing already beginning to deepen.

For a moment, Lothiriel simply gazed upon her. She wished there was more she could do to help Morwen make peace with her grandchildren. Stretched out as she was almost gave the appearance that she herself had died, and it was very possible it would not be many years before that was the case. She very much hoped they would set aside their precious pride before it was too late and all they had were regrets. Turning slowly away, she slipped quietly out the door.

By the time for supper, the mood was already shifting from mournful to fond remembrances of the former king. During the meal, which Lothiriel was pleased Morwen felt up to attending, songs were sung in his honor and all around the hall stories were being told by those who had known him.

It was the custom to drink to the memory of all the kings, and this was the opportunity for the people of Rohan to formally acknowledge Eomer as the new leader of the Mark. After all the kings had been named down to Theoden, the cups were refilled and all rose to drink and exclaim, "Hail, Éomer, King of the Mark!" Eowyn's eyes were bright with pride for her brother, and Lothiriel saw Morwen inconspicuously brush away a tear.

Then, as the night drew to a close, Eomer attended to a happier matter – the betrothal of his sister to Faramir. It was reassuring that all readily drank and cheered this development also. The betrothal signaled the end of the festivities, and the crowd slowly began to disperse. Many of the guests took themselves off to their beds, though it fell to Eomer and Eowyn to stay until the last. Surprisingly, Morwen remained also.

A last cup of wine was poured for those who desired it among their small group. Aragorn and Arwen had departed, but Imrahil and his family lingered, as did Faramir. They sipped their wine in tired silence for several moments, until Morwen chose to speak.

"My granddaughter is marrying the Steward of Gondor, and will be made Princess of Ithilien. I look forward to seeing such a uniting of Gondor and the Mark," she observed with satisfaction.

"I am so _pleased_ to be marrying in accordance with your high expectations!" Eowyn snapped churlishly, crossing her arms as a reflection of her anger. For her, the comment had ruined the bliss of the last hour, even though Faramir's arm tightened around her consolingly.

Though Eomer had taken the remark in the same way Eowyn clearly had, still he felt rather embarrassed by her retort. "_Eowyn_," he murmured warningly.

Morwen gave a heavy sigh, and let her commanding gaze pin Eowyn in place. "I was only saying that I am pleased to have the old alliances renewed. For too long has there been distrust and variance between these two lands. Though I realize you and Faramir marry for love, and I am delighted it is so, there is no denying the resulting political implications are favorable," she said firmly.

Eowyn had the good grace to blush, though she offered no apology. Seeking to lighten the tense mood that had come upon them, Faramir smiled teasingly down at Eowyn and said, "Certainly I cannot object to closer relations between our two lands! I have never seen anything so glorious as the lovely shieldmaiden who rode out of the North!"

His efforts succeeded in that most of the party burst into laughter at the remark. None doubted its sincerity, and even Eowyn seemed moved by it. A grin twitched reluctantly at her mouth, until at length she chose to ignore her grandmother and focus on the man beside her who was to be her husband.

Eomer was relieved that the situation had eased, and decided it was the right moment to make a strategic withdrawal before anything else could be said to cause difficulties. "I will bid you all a good night then. It has been a very long day," he announced, excusing himself with a bow, and the others began to speak words of farewell also, following his example.

xx

The days after the funeral were more relaxed than those preceding it. Most of the guests from Gondor set out back to their home, though the large party of Elves were to accompany the Fellowship to their parting. They remained at Edoras three days longer and then set off. Eomer and Eowyn were greatly saddened to be parting from their hobbit friends, not knowing when they might see one another again.

Eomer had invited Imrahil and his family to remain longer and not leave until Aragorn returned for Arwen on his way back to Minas Tirith. It was readily agreed upon, though the king was not so delighted that the invitation necessarily had to include Morwen as well. For the most part, however, she had been staying out of the way since the night of the funeral feast and her ill-advised words. He had learned from Erchirion that she and Lothiriel spent a great deal of time in the garden, and though he was curious to see what progress had been made, he was reluctant to go and look while they might be there. Eowyn offered no report, so he suspected she was avoiding it as well. Plus, with the departure of so many guests, she had more time available to spend with Faramir.

Imrahil's sons and the Steward had moved into vacated rooms at Meduseld rather than continuing to camp outside the walls. Their company was so agreeable, Eomer found that he was sorry to see their visit nearing an end. It would be quiet indeed, and even a bit lonely, once everyone was gone. He tried to make the most of their remaining time together, and seeming to sense his mood, Imrahil put forth every effort to cheer him with activity.

Lothiriel had mentioned playing the harp, and Imrahil pressed his daughter to entertain them in the evenings as they sat around talking after supper. She readily did so, though she was a bit out of practice and unused to the small lap harps they used in Rohan. Once she became accustomed to the unfamiliar instrument, she played beautifully. Just as with her storytelling, Lothiriel put a great deal of feeling and expression into her music. Eomer found himself completely caught up, whether by a lover's lament or songs of the sea. Something about the tunes of Dol Amroth was soothing to his soul, or perhaps it was merely the way Lothiriel presented them. He did not know which was true, but it mattered not. He would enjoy it while it lasted.

As the time drew near for Aragorn's return, Eomer noticed that his grandmother seemed to watch him and Eowyn a great deal, though she kept silent. She had spoken little to either of them, or in their company, since Eowyn had reacted so poorly to her observation earlier. Talk flowed around her, and she would respond when spoken to, but Morwen did not volunteer to contribute to most conversations.

In some ways, as she looked at the siblings, her gaze almost seemed _hungry_, and though it was an incredible notion to him, he got the impression she was hoarding away as many memories and images of her grandchildren as she could before leaving. He did not like the fact that the realization made him feel guilty, as did the chastising glances that Lothiriel frequently gave him. As far as those two were concerned, they would not depart soon enough!

On the other hand, he had finally been able to slip out to the garden when they were not there, and was overwhelmed by what had been accomplished in so short a time. Most of the weeds were gone and now the plants did not look so choked for air. Paths had been cleared once more to enable a person to walk among the beds, though the farthest reaches still required a good deal of work. But what could be readily seen from the back exit onto the terrace was drastically improved, and for that he must thank them. He knew Morwen had done little more than supervise the proceedings while Lothiriel did the work, but still it was a marvel.

It had long saddened him to see the place so overgrown. As a child, he had played here when his mother would bring them to visit his uncle, and he had developed a great fondness for it. Later, when they came to live at Meduseld after the death of their parents, he and Eowyn had found solace in the solitude there.

Once he had seen the result of her hard work, Eomer knew that he must approach Lothiriel and let her know how much he appreciated what she had done. He could not let his enmity with Morwen prevent his being courteous. Certainly a daughter of a prince had no need to be toiling in physical labor as she clearly had, but he could only feel grateful that she had done so to this effect.

He seized the opportunity the next morning. Aragorn was expected in the next day or two, so he did not wish to leave this too long. After the morning meal, he asked to speak with her, and they walked out onto the terrace, circling around to the side of the hall for a moment's privacy in their conversation.

"I must thank you for our garden," he told her sincerely. "It has not looked so well in many years, and I have long regretted that, though it was not in my power to deal with before this. I intended to find someone eventually who would dig it out, but other concerns were more pressing."

"You are most welcome," she replied with a smile. "But it is really Lady Morwen whom you should thank. I had spent time there and was saddened by the condition of the garden, but not until I witnessed her complete dismay was I inspired to offer my services."

His jaw tightened at the mention of his grandmother, and Lothiriel noticed. She had resisted pressing either the king or his sister to make amends with Morwen, but now she was too irritated for caution. "Why do you despise her so? What has she done to you?"

"She abandoned the Mark, and her own family!" Eomer exclaimed, amazed that she didn't already understand the situation by now.

Lothiriel gave him a withering look. "I hope," she said firmly, "that now you are king of Rohan, you will show greater fairness in the judgement of your people than you have for your grandmother. Things are not always as they appear on the surface, and those who judge would do well to seek the truth before carving their judgements in stone!" She turned angrily away, unable to suppress the tears that slipped from her eyes. Morwen did not deserve this callous treatment from her own kindred, but all of them were too stubborn to simply sit down and talk out their grievances. She truly believed this matter could be resolved if the truth were known, but Morwen had not given her liberty to speak on her behalf, and so far there was no indication Eomer or Eowyn wished to hear the truth even if it was voiced.

Eomer had remained silent, stunned by her aggressive attack. Turning back to face him, she declared, "She has _done_ nothing terrible to you, Eomer. Regrettable and unfortunate, yes, but she has not materially injured you. You had your parents and then your uncle to care for you, so you were not abandoned and left alone to fend for yourself. You may have desired her presence, but you did not truly suffer for her not being there. And before you rush to judge her for her decision to remain in Gondor, you might go to the trouble of learning _why_ she did so. Do not assume that you know the answer to that mystery just based on what you have seen or heard. Did your uncle ever speak ill of her? Did your parents? Were they also upset that she left them? _They_ would have had more reason to be angry than you and Eowyn do, as you never really knew her anyway."

She stopped abruptly, realizing she had almost revealed more than she should, but perhaps she had said enough to make him think more about this. With a curtsy, she told him. "You are very welcome for the restored garden, my lord. I have found it is a good place for solitary reverie." She gave him a pointed look, and then turned on her heel and strode back to the front of Meduseld to go for a walk. She needed to work off her frustration just now. He was a fine man and she liked him very much, but she could not accept his behavior toward Morwen.

They did not speak privately again for the duration of her stay, but Eomer could not help watching Lothiriel whenever they were in the same room, and remember her words. Now that she mentioned it, he did not really know why Morwen had left. And he was honest enough to admit that Lothiriel was right – neither Theoden nor his parents had ever spoken ill of Morwen, while Theodred had clearly adored her and missed her being at Meduseld. By the time he was watching their party make their way down the hill to return home, his stance had softened somewhat, though he had not quite brought himself to actually talk to Morwen and ask about her reasons. He would do that in the spring, while in Gondor for Eowyn's wedding. But as regarded Lothiriel, between her singing and playing, and the wonderful garden, he could forgive her interference concerning his grandmother. The girl could be irritating, but he began to see that he usually found her so when she was telling him what he did not want to hear – though perhaps he _needed_ to hear what she said.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: __ Someone left an anonymous review for Chapter 4, questioning the scene in which Lothiriel verbally attacks Eomer for his not reconciling with Morwen. Some of the reviewers points are valid, such as Lothiriel's lack of objectivity and possibly she came on too strong. But, in real life, people often "over-react" and speak too quickly. Lothiriel hasn't really considered how she might feel if she were in a similar situation with a grandmother, or that Morwen hasn't particularly reached out to her grandchildren in a friendly way since meeting them. I intended Eomer's rather favorable reaction to the attack more as an indication of his reasonable, fair nature than that Lothiriel was absolutely right in what she said. You will learn more about what is driving Lothiriel (and the others) later in the story._**

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 5**

The great hall of Meduseld was quiet with all the guests departed, but Eomer had little time to notice. Winter would be upon them soon and there was much work to be done in readying his people for it. The supplies brought from Gondor had quickly been moved to the areas most in need, and he was grateful that Aragorn and Faramir had assured him more would be coming as soon as possible.

Eowyn was on a cleaning frenzy within the hall itself, seeming determined not to leave for her new home until all was in order here. He was grateful for that, even though he found it amusing. Despite that, it was good to see her so full of life and happy. He made a few teasing remarks about her new-found domesticity, but aside from some pretended anger, she took them in her stride. They usually spent the evenings quietly talking in his study, going over what had been accomplished and what still needed doing, making plans for who would do what.

When they were younger, they had been close and confided in one another, especially after their parents had died. Over the years, particularly after Eomer joined an eored and was away more and more often, they had gotten away from that. Now they returned to the old habit. It took awhile before each was comfortable saying much of what they felt, but gradually they settled back into a familiar closeness. It was bittersweet for the both of them, knowing that they would soon be parted, not to see a great deal of one another.

It was on a cold winter evening in January that Eowyn broached a subject that had been much on her mind. She could not help believing that her departure would be easier for Eomer if he found a wife to stand beside him, and certainly he needed to consider starting a family now that he was nearly thirty years. The Mark would need an heir, but more importantly her brother would need a loving companion.

"Have you given any thought to marriage?" she asked, not one to bandy words.

"Not appreciably, no. There is too much to do at present for such things. All in good time, Eowyn." He hoped he had said it firmly enough to discourage her pursuing this conversation, though he realized the hope was likely folly.

He was proved correct. "Once I am gone, you will need someone to run Meduseld. A wife isn't a frivolity, Eomer, she is a necessity. And I would not see you alone. Is there no one that you might desire?" Eowyn persisted.

With a shrug, he shook his head. "I cannot say that anyone has caught my eye, though certainly enough of them have tried – both here and in Gondor. As I said, all in good time."

"What about Lothiriel?" Eowyn offered.

"What about her?" Eomer replied, pointedly pretending not to understand her meaning.

"Eomer, above all other women she is most appropriate to be your bride, and –"

He cut her off. "Eowyn, Lothiriel is a fine and pleasant girl, I grant you, but she is far too young and inexperienced to be acceptable as queen of the Mark. Surely you can see that." He looked away, annoyed with the entire discussion.

"Very well, then," his sister persisted, "if not Lothiriel, who do _you_ have in mind? As _you_ said, certainly there are enough women eager to gain your notice. Even if you do not presently love any of them, surely there is someone who might warrant further attention from you. Until you make some effort, you are unlikely to love anyone since you do not know anyone well enough to love them."

"Why must I have anyone in mind?" he asked with a sigh. "I have only been king for a few months, and the Mark has greater needs than a wife for me. That will happen in due course, but not now."

"That is not entirely true, brother. Though the people of the Mark presently struggle, they will not be easy until you and I are not the last remaining descendants of Eorl. Which means either or both of us needs to produce offspring as soon as possible," Eowyn explained, though she was sure he already understood the situation.

"Fine. Then as your king, I assign the task to you and Faramir!" Eomer retorted, looking somewhat smug about his solution to the problem.

Eowyn was not about to let him off so easy. "As you wish, your majesty! I shall ride to Gondor and seek Faramir directly, so we may begin the process at once. I trust you will not object if we proceed without benefit of a wedding first!"

"Eowyn!" he snapped, irritated that she had bested him in the argument, even though he felt sure she did not truly mean to follow through on the suggestion she had made.

"Eomer!" she retorted, not willing to yield.

They sat glaring at one another until finally Eowyn sighed and crossed her arms. "Eomer, marriage is not a selfish act. You need someone beside you, not only to run Meduseld and manage the household, but also to strengthen you in the days ahead. I see how you struggle not to be discouraged by all that must be overcome. A wife could make that easier to bear. Please, do look around you and try to find someone. If not Lothiriel, then whoever does appeal to you. I want you to be happy, and it will make the Mark stronger, I assure you."

He looked away, unable to avoid the truth of her words. "I know all that, Eowyn, truly I do. But falling in love is not so simple as you make it seem. You should understand that. I am not rejecting the possibility outright, there just is not anyone who claims my affections at present. When someone does come along, I will not hesitate to act – I promise you that."

Relenting, Eowyn reached over to lay a hand on her brother's arm. "That is all I am asking. It lessens my happiness to see you so overwhelmed and have there be nothing I can do about it. I worry about how you will fare when I am married and gone from Meduseld." She rose to go sit on the arm of his chair, and laid her head against his with a sigh.

He slipped his arm around her waist. "Do not fret. I am made of sterner stuff than that, and I will manage without you – though I will not like it very much. It will be very difficult not having you near as you have been all of my life. Faramir had better make you blissfully happy! At the first sign of trouble, I will ride to Gondor and bring you home!" he vowed, causing her to laugh and lean into him.

More than he would have wished, the conversation stayed in Eomer's mind, coming to his thoughts at the most annoying times. A wife was desirable, but he disagreed that he needed to focus on it at this very moment. When they had made it successfully through the winter, and he had seen Eowyn married, then he would give thought to his own personal situation. And, as the time drew nearer for their return to Gondor, the flurry of activity increased, leaving even less time to ponder such matters. Eowyn was almost frantic, afraid she would forget to do something or pack everything, despite Eomer's assurances that their housekeeper would be capable in her absence, and he could send on anything that she forgot (though he half-teasingly told her she was always welcome to come home and fetch forgotten articles in person).

Having been kept indoors so much by the business of being king and the winter weather, it felt good to be back in the saddle and on the road once more. He had missed the freedom of being on horseback, riding out. True, those around him were not merely fellow soldiers now but guards to protect the king. Most he also counted as friends, though, to one degree or another and so that detail could be overlooked. Even as Third Marshal they would have guarded his safety, as they would any of their fellow Riders.

The farther south that they rode, the more they saw evidence of spring in the warmer climate. New leaves and buds on trees, along with wildflowers beginning to appear, added a festive touch to their journey. The Pelennor looked much improved from when last they had seen it. Crops had been resown and already poked through the ground. Some of the farms and homesteads had been rebuilt, and farmers paused in their work to wave at their passing. An area had been kept reserved for the encampment of their guard, though Eomer and Eowyn would be staying within the City. Eothain took charge of settling everyone in as the siblings rode on with their attending servants.

Eomer had felt very strange having a manservant wait upon him. Having taken care of himself all these years, it seemed silly and useless, but more and more he had come to appreciate having one. His day was full enough without having to attend to cleaning his armor and ordering his wardrobe. Better yet, Haldor was discreet, and seemed to know when to leave him alone and when to help. If a king required such things, then certainly Haldor was an excellent choice.

Eomer was more delighted to see his friends again than he had expected. He knew he missed their company, but the rush of pleasure as he and Aragorn embraced was stronger than he might have anticipated. A twinkle in his friend's eye suggested he was feeling something similar, and Eomer had to repress a chuckle. Perhaps it was not so unexpected. Only a year ago, both of them had merely been soldiers, and now each found himself sitting upon a throne and responsible for the welfare of a great many people. Friends – especially ones that completely understood you – were a rare thing.

Within an hour of their arrival, Eowyn had managed to disappear with Faramir, much to Eomer's amusement. Aragorn did not seem displeased by his Steward's absence, chuckling, "I cannot fault his sensibility in the matter, my friend! He has virtually been frothing at the mouth awaiting her – a rare thing for my somewhat staid Steward! But I – we, both of us – would be disappointed in him if he showed any less emotion! I recall what I felt when I saw Arwen riding to me across the Pelennor."

Eomer snickered. "A fine old married man you are! A gentle hand and a beguiling smile is all it takes for some men to be hopelessly lost!" He trailed the other man into his study, and went to settle on a couch while Aragorn poured wine for them.

Over his shoulder, Aragorn arched an eyebrow at him. "Methinks you speak of matters in which you have little experience, friend! There is far more to it than that. The gentle hand and beguiling smile might first draw our notice, but it takes much more to snare one's heart. And, with the right woman, what we gain far outweighs anything we must do in order to claim her for our own. I highly recommend the marriage state," he said sincerely.

His expression sobered, Eomer nodded. "Of course. I was only joking, my friend, and I have seen in your marriage that you speak truly."

"So, does that mean you are considering joining me in marital bliss?" the king inquired, a smirk twitching at his lips.

"Hold on!" Eomer exclaimed in mock horror. "Not you also. I have already been down this road with Eowyn! I will marry when the time, and the woman, is right. But I will not be rushed into it by anyone, not even the king of Gondor!"

Now Aragorn did let go a full-blown laugh. "Well said. And I do not seek to rush you. The right woman is well worth waiting for, as I know personally. But I would encourage you to look, however. Marriage is much on the minds of many, and the lady you desire may end up wed to someone else if you tarry too long in indecision. And a queen for the Mark would not go amiss, I am sure, along with a few children at your feet – preferably male!" He handed a goblet of wine to Eomer and eased into a nearby chair.

Eomer laughed with his friend. "Too true. Now that we have made it through the winter," he replied more seriously, "perhaps I can give some thought to my own affairs. Things are progressing nicely in restoring the Riddermark, and with Eowyn married I am sure it will be lonely at home. I will keep an eye out for any likely prospects."

Aragorn raised his glass of wine in a silent toast to Eomer's decision, and they both drank in agreeable silence.

As it happened, the subject of Eomer's finding a wife was being spoken of in other quarters as well. Eowyn had mentioned to Faramir her desire for her brother to find someone. "I only hope he will pursue the matter. I do not like to see him alone," she fretted.

Faramir leaned back on the garden bench, crossing his legs. "What about my cousin, Lothiriel? They seemed to get along well enough, and you appeared to like her. Would she not be appropriate?"

"She would if he would consider her," Eowyn replied, a note of frustration in her voice. Despite Eomer's objections, she thought Lothiriel suited her brother very well, more than he would admit.

"Eomer does not like Lothiriel?" Faramir asked in surprise. He had gotten the impression that the two found each other agreeable, despite the subject of Lady Morwen standing between them.

"Oh, I am certain he likes her well enough," Eowyn assured him, "but he dismisses her too lightly. He thinks her unequal to the challenge of being queen of Rohan. I personally think she would be excellent in the role. There is far more to her than readily meets the eye, but I think Eomer is looking mostly at the outward character of her. And there is the matter of affection. While Gondor is not averse to planned marriages, the Mark views affection as essential to any match. Whether he will admit it or not, I am sure Eomer hopes to find love rather than merely duty in marriage, and presently I cannot say that I perceive partiality toward any woman, including Lothiriel."

"Well, my sweet, do not despair. Perhaps in time that will change. They have not known each other for very long. And if not Lothiriel, certainly there are plenty of available women from which he may choose. We shall just have to introduce him to any that might appeal and then allow nature to take its course," Faramir said, rising to wrap his arms around his betrothed.

The action drew her notice back to him, and she smiled gratefully up at him. "Yes, that is all we may do. But I will not give up hope he may come to see Lothiriel in a better light. I do like her very much and think she would make a fine queen."

xx

"So, they are arrived, then?" Morwen said as Lothiriel entered the library.

"Yes," Lothiriel replied, going to sit in a chair near the queen. "They rode in about an hour ago. I should think they will come to call in the next day or so."

"Call on your father or brothers, perhaps, but not me – not by choice, anyway," Morwen stated benignly, concealing the hurt that pierced her, though Lothiriel suspected anyway.

"I…I think you should know –", she began, then faltered. When Morwen raised a questioning eyebrow, she took a deep breath and continued. "When we were in Rohan, just before we left, I am afraid I took Eomer King to task over his behavior toward you. I told him he was being unfair, and suggested he find out your reasons for tarrying in Gondor before he passed any judgement on you." Lothiriel favored Morwen with a guilty, apologetic look. "I am sorry if I overstepped my bounds, but I do not like to see you so at odds with your grandchildren. And I do think they are being unfair, particularly given what you have shared with me as to your reasons. I hope he or they will approach you on this. If they do, I beg you will condescend to tell them the truth. Let this unpleasantness be buried along with all those dead orcs and evils of Mordor. Find peace in your family as we have found in our lands."

Morwen considered her words, then smiled approvingly at the girl. "Quite the peacemaker you are, my dear, but I should have expected such from Imrahil's daughter. Yes, you are correct. This has gone on long enough, and I will try to be more patient and understanding with them. If either approaches me, I will tell them the truth. Just remember, though, that the Eorlingas are both proud and stubborn. It will not be easy for them to humble themselves enough to do as you suggest."

Lothiriel straightened in her chair, and smiled. "It has not been my experience that Dol Amroth is any less stubborn!" she laughed. "I shall prove most persistent in encouraging a settlement!"

xx

After a leisurely noon-day meal, Eomer had returned to his room in the king's house. He had considered taking a nap, but found he was too restless, so he stood on the balcony which overlooked the Pelennor. He could see the ribbon of silver that was the Anduin, glimmering in the afternoon sunlight, as his thoughts turned back to the recent conversation with Aragorn. His friend had been right, as had Eowyn during the winter. Eomer did need to consider finding a wife.

Despite his objections, Eowyn was not entirely wrong – a wife and queen was desirable, and sooner rather than later. While he had some hesitation about Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, in many ways she was the most apt choice. Her name had come up more than once in similar conversations regarding his marital status, when his advisers had thought it safe to nudge him in that direction. At least the girl was amiable. Indeed, he found her quite pleasant and did rather like her, even if his feelings were nothing stronger. Offering for her would remove at least this one burden from his shoulders, and Gondor seemed to prize marriages of alliance so he should be well received.

He gave a heavy sigh. This was not how he had envisioned doing things, but perhaps kings did not have the luxury to casually seek acquaintance with a woman and woo her slowly. Maybe he could have found a woman to love as his parents had loved – before he became king. Now he was not sure he could distinguish between those merely eager to gain the crown and those who truly cared for the man who wore it. He thought he could be reasonably happy with Lothiriel, if not deliriously so, and if nothing else, he had little concern over her intentions. Nothing in her behavior to this point suggested someone seeking to ingratiate themselves to him. She had been affable and friendly, but there was no hint of royal aspirations.

_Tomorrow. He would approach her tomorrow._ He decided quickly, then shoved the thought aside, before he could falter. This needed doing, and he would do whatever was required to secure the future of the Mark. He could be satisfied with Lothiriel as his bride.

xx

Aragorn had planned for a small supper, including only Imrahil's family and Lady Morwen. If he was to approach Lothiriel, Eomer thought it might be wise to act more cordially toward Morwen. Although he had considered the girl's words during the winter, more often than he had intended, he still was reluctant to act. He was almost tempted to press Lothiriel for the details of Morwen's life that led to her fleeing to Gondor, but he knew that was cowardly of him and would not attempt it. Maybe once he had approached Lothiriel, his grandmother would be more receptive to conversation with him. He hadn't said anything to Eowyn about Lothiriel's chastisement, though he planned to share with her anything that he learned if he thought it worthwhile.

If Morwen was surprised that Eomer made a greater attempt to converse pleasantly with her, she gave no indication. Lothiriel could not be sure of the reason behind his effort, but she was pleased all the same. It was a start, at any rate.

Much of the dinner discourse centered on the plans for the wedding. Aragorn had chosen to make it a much grander affair than was usual as a means to honor both Faramir and the king's sister. Both were held in such high esteem that he wanted to give the people yet another opportunity to celebrate. "I realize all this may be a bit overwhelming, Lady Eowyn, as I have seen the usual manner of marriages in the Mark, but I know our people want to share in your joy and wish you well. I hope you do not mind."

"Not at all, my Lord. Their excitement was evident even as we rode into the City today, with greetings being called out. It would be a shame to exclude them. And their feelings toward Faramir are so warm that I would not want to deprive them. I shall endure whatever it takes to become his wife!" She smiled lovingly at the man beside her, who beamed in return and lifted her hand to kiss it.

Aragorn chuckled at the sight. "Good thing I have arranged for Faramir to take you away for a few days after the wedding. I have a feeling he would be all but useless to me if I tried to get any work out of him at present!"

Faramir smiled innocently at the king. "Not so, my Liege, I assure you. I am ever at your service!"

"I know," Aragorn affirmed with a smile. "I did not mean to suggest otherwise. But you have earned some time away, and I am sure Eowyn would wish to see where her new home is to be. Ithilien should be wonderful, now that it is secure once more. How is the house progressing?"

"It comes along nicely," Faramir replied, taking a sip of wine. "It still needs work, but it will suffice to house us on our time away, so Eowyn may see its potential, and let me know of anything she particularly wishes done to it."

"You will not be living in the City?" Eomer asked. "I had thought as Steward you would be needed close at hand."

"Often, yes, but not all of the time. We will have the house here, but our main home will be out in the Ithilien countryside. After all, we cannot be Prince and Princess of Ithilien if we spend no time in the place. And I think Eowyn will find the green woods there more to her liking than all this stone, at least when it is possible."

"And Faramir says there is ample room for the garden I wish to put in," Eowyn added. She turned to Lothiriel, saying, "Perhaps if you have time, you would be willing to help me with that. You did a remarkable job with the garden behind Meduseld."

"I should be happy to do so," Lothiriel answered with a smile. "It will give me a new project now that I am almost finished with Father's garden here in the City."

Eomer's brow knit as he asked, "I thought your father already had a garden, and quite a nice one at that. Remember, I saw it when I was here before."

"Yes, but Morlach was displeased with being penned out in it during part of each day and expressed his annoyance with digging. I had much to repair," Lothiriel said ruefully.

Eowyn's expression tightened as she asked, "Did he accompany you on this visit, Lady Morwen?" Yet another thing for her to dislike – foisting this annoying dog on others and allowing him to destroy their property.

Morwen eyed her coolly before replying, "No, I left him at home. I think he will be happier there. The City is too confining." She offered no apology to Eowyn, deeming it unnecessary. Only Imrahil and Lothiriel deserved such and she had already given it.

Within himself, Eomer sighed. This was not going to be easy. Their grandmother seemed determined not to have them like her, though possibly she did not even consider how they might react to her words or actions. Still, it increased his reluctance to approach her and attempt to learn her history.

Imrahil sought to ease the tension that had developed by telling a tale of his own dog, bought as a puppy many years before, who had a similar fondness for digging up the garden. His gardener was at his wit's end trying to keep the damage to a minimum until a friend had told him of a good dog trainer. After a couple of weeks with the man, the dog had returned well-behaved and never dug up the grounds again, to everyone's relief.

"Unlike that mutt of Lothiriel's who chewed up everything it could get its teeth into until you banished it from the house!" Erchirion interjected. "Even the dog trainer was unable to break that habit, and so Lothiriel had to resign herself to visiting him at the kennel and enjoying his company outside the palace."

"He was just high-spirited, that is all," Lothiriel argued, though in truth she had disliked the damaged clothes as much as anyone else. When the dog resisted curbing its behavior, even she had seen the wisdom of keeping him where he would not have the opportunity.

Amrothos snickered, and commented, "That is not what you said when he destroyed your favorite pair of dancing slippers! You ranted about that for days, as I recall."

She glared reprovingly at her brother and turned away, focusing on eating her dessert, though a smile lurked around her mouth at the memory he had evoked.

Eowyn glanced between the two of them, then said, "Our Uncle always had the hounds at Meduseld well in hand, though Theodred sometimes spoiled them. But when he got them doing things they should not, Uncle could readily set them to right with a look or sharp word. I think Eomer must have learned it from him, after seeing how effectively he dealt with Morlach. Theodred was always too soft-hearted to resist their pleading eyes."

Morwen's eyes had gotten misty as she listened to Eowyn's words. At length, she murmured, "Yes, his was a gentle heart. He was needed to be a soldier, but it was never his inclination. Given a choice, I think he would have preferred to raise horses and carve in wood than rule the Mark."

Silence followed this pronouncement, particularly since Eomer and Eowyn were so stunned by her keen observation. She had spoken truly – both knew it. Theodred was just as she described. While Theoden was not unsympathetic, he knew that ruling the Mark was not a matter of choice. The task would one day fall to his son and he must be ready, so in that sense he had pushed Theodred as a military leader. Fortunately, Theodred had been capable in what he needed to do. Sometimes life required things of you whether you wished it or not.

That thought made Eomer glance at Morwen. Had life forced choices on her that she might not otherwise have made? Was that what Lothiriel had been suggesting that day at Meduseld? He did not know, but more and more he felt sure that he must find out, once and for all.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.


	6. Chapter 6

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 6**

As always, Eomer was up at the crack of dawn, but this day was different. Today he was going to ask a woman to marry him, and that would likely change his life forever. For the good, he hoped, but one could never be sure. Haldor was able to procure a breakfast for him which he ate in his room, before heading to the stables. Eowyn would be busy most of the day with wedding preparations, so he could avoid her discovering his intention, but he did not want to arrive at Imrahil's home too early. As he needed to occupy some time, a ride down to the encampment should do the trick. And perhaps he would stop at Snowmane's grave to pay homage.

His plan worked well. By the time he had thoroughly brushed and readied Firefoot, with the Gondorian stable lads anxiously watching and wondering why a king would do such things himself, he had used nearly an hour. A bakery along the road had some cinnamon buns cooling near the window and the smell drew him close. Dismounting he called into the shop, and the clerk came out to speak with him, agreeing to wrap up several of the rolls for him to take with him. Eomer knew Eothain had a particular weakness for such things, and it would be nice to surprise his friend.

He found the big man hunkered over a bowl of his usual morning porridge, but his eyes brightened at the sight of the rolls Eomer handed him. A squire quickly took the remaining porridge to feed to Firefoot while the two men talked and downed the delectable rolls.

They ended up talking far longer than he had intended, both about matters at hand and casual personal chatter. Already it was nearly mid-morning, and Eomer thought he ought to get back if he was to see Lothiriel. As he rose, Eothain glanced speculatively up at him and asked, "Eomer, is something the matter? You seem…" His words trailed off and he looked down, giving a shrug.

"Seem what?" Eomer queried, drawing on his gloves.

"I don't know…uneasy, perhaps. Maybe it is just my imagination, or has to do with Eowyn's wedding," Eothain offered, trying to dismiss the impression he had gotten of the king.

Eomer glanced away, not willing to admit what it likely was that Eothain had noticed – the nervousness of a man about to propose marriage. "All is well, my friend," he said at length. "Once we get this wedding out of the way, likely all will be as it should."

His response was somewhat vague, but enough to satisfy Eothain, who rose and gave him a grin. "If it works out well for Eowyn, perhaps I will have to give this marriage thing a try! A nice round woman to come home to, supper already prepared and then a snug bed awaiting. Quite an improvement over a camp full of men and eating questionable cooking!"

Eomer shook his head in amusement. "I should like to meet the woman who would be willing to tolerate the likes of you! But, then, there is a shortage of men since the War – you might have a chance. Surely someone is willing to settle for whatever she can get!"

Eothain took a swing at Eomer, who easily dodged it. "Assaulting your king is not likely to make you popular with the ladies! It will be hard to woo them from a cell!" Eothain's laughter followed him as he strode over to collect Firefoot from the squire standing waiting. With a wave, he rode back toward the City. At least the banter with Eothain had calmed the twitching in his stomach – well, somewhat anyway.

Deeming it wise to have a quick wash before presenting himself to a lady, he retired to his room and made himself tidier in his appearance. Taking a deep breath, he glanced in the mirror one final time before striding firmly on his way. He was grateful not to encounter anyone who might inquire where he was going, and he arrived at Imrahil's door unimpeded.

It had occurred to him on the walk that he could not even be sure Lothiriel would be there when he called, but decided he might as well check since he was on his way. If not, he could leave word and ask to meet with her at another time convenient to her schedule.

Imrahil's butler led him to a small sitting room that was brightened by the morning sun. He left Eomer to announce himself as he had requested, but the king paused by the open door. His presence went unnoticed by the women as he gazed upon the scene inside. The making of sachets was not an unusual task for women, being necessary to keep pests out of the clothing and bedding, but he was surprised to see his grandmother helping with it. He had not thought she would engage in such an activity. Lothiriel was doing the cutting, tying and sewing parts, while Morwen filled each packet with the appropriate herbs and flowers for the various uses.

Though he was sure he had made no sound, Lothiriel suddenly looked up and met his gaze. An eyebrow raised questioningly at him as he stepped into the room, asking, "Lady Lothiriel, may we speak privately?"

Morwen made no comment as Lothiriel rose, but she eyed Eomer speculatively. He kept his expression impassive, unwilling to tip his hand as to his intent.

"Of course, my lord. We will not be long?" she said.

"No, it should not take a great deal of time. No more than half an hour at the most, if that," he acknowledged, understanding she did not want to leave Morwen waiting for her return. He gestured toward the door, and she preceded him out into the hall. "I thought we might talk in the garden," he suggested, to guide her steps, and she nodded agreeably.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, he searched for a topic of conversation with which to ease into the subject foremost in his mind. "You…seem to spend a great deal of time with Lady Morwen," he observed, as they seated themselves on a garden bench.

"Yes," she replied, "I very much enjoy her company." There was the slightest pause and then she added, "You and your sister might also, if you gave it a chance."

He shrugged, looking away. This was not something he was presently willing to discuss, though he was somewhat surprised by her temerity in mentioning it yet again. Deciding directness was likely his best option, he turned back to look at her. "You may wonder at my purpose for requesting this audience with you. It has been suggested that now I am king, I need to seek a wife as soon as possible, and your name has been mentioned. I cannot deny that you have all the qualities that might be desired in a queen, and I find you quite amiable. That said, I do not have a great deal of time to spend on searching further for someone more appropriate, and so I have come to ask for your hand. Will you be my wife, Lothiriel?"

She went very still as he spoke, and she could not miss the utter lack of emotion in his voice as he made his proposal – he might just as well be commenting on the weather. All her life, she had dreaded the possibility of a political marriage , though most of society deemed them normal and right. While Denethor lived, she had feared being forced into a union of alliance, though she suspected her father might be more malleable on the subject if she objected. When Denethor died and a king took the throne, she had hoped it signaled greater freedom – freedom of choice. By all rights, she should be greatly honored by such an offer from such a man. He had everything to recommend him, including her own good opinion of him, but it was clear that he did not have feelings for her. And that detail alone made her pause. Had there been even a hint of attraction or desire, she did not think she would have hesitated for an instant, but his calm, expressionless proposal left her cold.

Her response was likely to cause an uproar, but she could only answer honestly. "Forgive me, my lord, but I do not wish to be someone for whom you merely settle. I have seen many ladies eager to catch your notice, and I am sure that one of them will be pleased to accommodate you in this," Lothiriel told him, all stiff politeness.

Eomer blinked in surprise, not expecting this reply. "You…you are refusing me?" he asked in confusion.

"With all due respect, my lord, I am. I must. To be sure, it would be an honor to be queen of Rohan, but I cannot consider a marriage of convenience as acceptable. Though such is not uncommon in Gondor, I have always desired to marry for love. I choose to wait awhile longer for that to happen, before necessity drives me to consider another course." She rose and offered him a curtsy. "If you will excuse me."

She was gone before he could recover his voice. While he was not a vain man, and did not expect women to fall at his feet, he certainly had not anticipated such rejection of his offer. By all he knew of Gondorian society, she should have readily leapt at the opportunity to make such an alliance, and be made queen. Though he could not fault her desire to marry for love – he wished for that also – he'd had every reason to think such would be esteemed lower than other considerations by the nobility of this land.

He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. Her response posed more than one problem, though to his mind the greatest was that he was no better off than before he made the offer. He was still unmarried and unbetrothed, and now he no longer had a likely prospect in mind. He could not say that any other lady had appealed to him, either at home or here in Gondor. He was back to the starting point of trying to find someone he could feel comfortable taking as a bride and thought acceptable to be queen.

In irritation, he stood quickly and strode out the gate to the road. A good hard gallop over the Pelennor might help relax him. He was nearly to the stables before he recalled he had already ridden out today and his doing so again might raise questions – questions he did not care to answer. Altering his course, he strode off down the road. Hiking down and then back up the hill might be sufficient, and if he found a tankard of ale along the way, all the better.

Morwen made no comment when Lothiriel returned so quickly to her chair, and resumed making sachets. Lothiriel thought she had done well in concealing her roiling emotions from the older woman, until at length Morwen asked quietly, "What did my grandson say to upset you so?"

She should have known Morwen was far too perceptive not to notice. Little escaped her observant eye. Knowing she could not avoid answering, Lothiriel tried to shrug nonchalantly as she said, "He…asked me to marry him." Keeping her gaze fixed on the ribbon she was tying helped her maintain an outward appearance of calm that she did not truly feel.

"Indeed?" was all Morwen said, though Lothiriel heard the further question in that single word.

"I told him no," she added, deciding she might as well be forthright about it rather than wait for it to be discovered in other ways.

"You do not wish to be queen, then?" Morwen questioned, pouring out a measure of herbs into one of the cut squares.

"He does not love me, and I consider that essential to marriage," she replied decisively, causing Morwen to glance sharply at her, though she did not look up to see it.

"A desirable goal, to be sure," Morwen acknowledged, "though not one always achieved amongst Gondor's nobility. What will your father say about your refusal?"

Lothiriel sighed, wondering that herself. She knew her father greatly liked and admired Eomer, and there was the matter of political alliances – her refusal might be considered an affront to a valued ally. Still, Imrahil had loved in his own marriage, so she hoped he would be understanding of her position. "I do not know, but I feel I must hold to my decision in the matter," she replied.

Morwen was not fooled by the benign answer. Depending on her father's view of the situation, arguments might well ensue as a result of this, though she did not think Lothiriel would be forced to comply against her will. She pursed her lips, then said firmly, "You have my support in the matter, dear, and you may tell him so. A marriage of convenience might work well among the nobility of Gondor, but it would not do well in the royal court of Rohan. A queen there is far more than a figurehead, and my grandson shows poor judgement in attempting a hasty solution to this problem. When he marries, as he must, it should be to the right woman – one for whom he cares deeply. _That_ is what the Riddermark needs more than anything else. If he achieves that, all the rest will fall into place on its own."

They continued working in silence for several minutes, and then Morwen announced, "I see I shall have to speak to Eomer and help him think more clearly on this matter. I would not have him make another ill-advised offer that might be accepted for the wrong reasons. You were wise to refuse, dear girl."

Lothiriel was grateful for her remark, though she said nothing more. They returned to their companionable silence, working quickly to finish the task at hand. As Lothiriel was tying the last few bundles, some slight sound drew her notice and she glanced at Morwen. The woman's face had paled and her breathing had grown shallow. Instantly she was on her feet and moving to Morwen's side. "Lady Morwen, are you unwell?"

"I…feel a bit shaky, my dear. Would you fetch help to get to my bed, and perhaps it might be wise to send for a Healer." Morwen's eyes were closed as she rested her head against the back of the chair while Lothiriel hurried off to do her bidding.

In moments, Elphir and Erchirion were assisting Morwen to her room as a servant dashed to the Houses for a Healer to attend the woman. An hour later, the alarm had passed and Morwen was resting comfortably. "Merely a brief swooning. Perhaps she overdid things in her day's activities," the Healer remarked. "At her age, it is not unusual. She should keep to her bed for the next few days until we are certain she is steady again."

Lothiriel nodded her understanding. "Thank you for coming. I will alert you if she has any further difficulties."

Imrahil tapped at the open door as the Healer was leaving, drawing his daughter's notice. She moved to join him in the hall. "I have just heard. Is Morwen well?"

"A bit unsteady, but she will recover. Just a moment's alarm that requires rest to set to rights," Lothiriel assured him. "Halgeth will be with her through the night, and I will check in periodically to see how she is doing."

Imrahil sighed. "Perhaps this trip was not a good idea. I thought she would enjoy coming to the City for the celebrations, but maybe they are too much for her."

"Do not blame yourself, Father. She wanted to be here, and there would be no stopping her if that was her choice. Whether you had invited her or not, she could just as easily have ordered her own carriage and servants to bring her. At least this way, we can watch over her."

Imrahil smiled warmly at his daughter. "Yes, I suppose you are right. And I think part of this has to do with her desire to know more of her grandchildren, whether they want to reciprocate or not. Things are tense there, but I hope in time they may all make peace with the past."

"Lady Morwen is willing in that regard, but I am not so sure that Eomer and Eowyn will give in. We shall have to see how things play out," Lothiriel replied with a sigh.

A sound from the room drew their notice, and Halgeth appeared at the doorway. "She is asking for you, my lady." With a nod to her father, Lothiriel entered as he moved away down the hall.

Morwen reached for her hand as she drew near the bed. "Lothiriel, child, I would ask that you not discuss my situation with others. I had a moment of lightheadedness – that is all they need know. Shall you keep my concerns private for me?"

"But of course, my lady. I would not dream of gossiping about you, or revealing anything you wished kept undisclosed." She paused, then asked, "Does this request include your grandchildren? They may ask and expect an explicit response."

"I doubt very much that they will ask, but if they do, I would have you keep my confidence. Anything they wish to know about me and my situation, they can ask of me directly, not go behind my back to ask others," Morwen said firmly.

She had closed her eyes in weariness, prompting Lothiriel to suggest, "You should rest now. You have my word." Morwen gave her a wan smile as she departed.

The promise was to be tested sooner than expected. Word had spread of the Healer's visit, and only a few hours later, Eomer appeared in the doorway of the library where she was selecting a book to read.

"What has happened with my grandmother?" he asked without preamble.

"She felt unwell, but she is resting now and should be fine," Lothiriel said, without turning to look at him. After the proposal this morning, she was no longer entirely comfortable in his presence. She wondered if anyone else knew of his offer, or whether it had been overshadowed by Morwen's sudden illness.

"What is wrong with her?" Eomer persisted, moving into the room. Her answer was too vague to satisfy him.

"I am not at liberty to say," she replied, still avoiding his gaze and feigning great interest in the book in her hands.

Eomer was not a man used to people not giving him what he wanted, and he found her response completely unacceptable. "I am the King of Rohan, and Lady Morwen's nearest living relative! I demand to know her situation!" he roared, more belligerently than he had intended.

To his surprise, Lothiriel was unfazed. She drew herself up to her full height and retorted, "Whereas I am the daughter of Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, and friend to Lady Morwen. I shall keep her confidence, regardless of who is doing the _asking_!"

For several long minutes, Eomer merely stared at her in astonishment. There was a fire in her eyes that was magnificent, and he had no doubt that she would not yield to any further arguments he might offer. Turning on his heel, he strode away, not attempting to disguise his annoyance, but coupled with that he was surprised to note a welling of respect within him. There were not many who could face him down, or would dare to attempt it, and he certainly had never expected Lothiriel to be one of them. It would seem that he had greatly underestimated the girl. Twice now she had refused to do as he bid.

Due to Morwen's illness, Imrahil's family ate at home that evening. Aragorn had come by to inquire after Queen Morwen, but left with no more information than Eomer had received, though his knowledge of healing allowed him to accept that the lady was not in any immediate danger. He had seen Eomer's distress, which seemed to go well beyond concern for his grandmother's health, and he suspected there was something more at work that was not readily known. Further, Lothiriel seemed on edge also. She smiled pleasantly, and was everything cordial, but he sensed a great turmoil in her that he was not sure could merely be attributed to Morwen's illness. Still, until more details came to light, he could make no guesses as to why several of his friends seemed out of sorts all of a sudden.

Eowyn, though somewhat concerned when she learned of Morwen's illness, refused to allow it to play on her sympathies. Morwen had never cared to have her attention before this; she should not expect it now. Faramir sent his best wishes, but refrained from comments that might upset his betrothed further, and the couple dined at the Steward's house, as Faramir hosted Eomer, Aragorn and Arwen.

The supper in this setting distracted Eowyn sufficiently as she got a taste for what it would soon be like when she was mistress of the home. Earlier in the day, Faramir had shown her through the house and they had discussed possible changes to it. He had agreed with her assessment that the place was rather cold and forbidding, and he assured her that he wanted her to feel free to make her presence known.

"You will tell me if there is something you wish unchanged, will you not?" she had asked hesitantly, not entirely sure he meant to give her such free rein.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he gazed into her eyes. "It has been unchanged for too long, and offers only bitter memories for me. I want this to be a home again, where our children can play freely and happily. Boromir and I once did that here, until our mother died. I…would only ask that for the time being you do not disturb Boromir's room. I will deal with it eventually, but I am not yet ready to…"

His words had trailed off, as he felt inadequate to explain what he was feeling, but Eowyn had understood and nodded. Gently stroking his cheek, she told him, "When the time is right, you will know it, my love. Until then, that room will remain closed to all but you and any others you would have enter it."

All during the tour of the house, Eowyn had felt the servants' eyes upon her, quietly assessing their new mistress. As she sensed no animosity toward her, she had to assume that she had managed to pass muster, and she was determined not to have that good opinion change for the worse. She had always tried to be fair in her dealings with the staff and that would not change now.

After supper, they had also showed Eomer around. Aragorn and Arwen joined them, though they had already seen some parts of the house on previous visits, and Arwen offered a few suggestions to brighten the interior and help lift the somewhat oppressive atmosphere of the place. Eomer gave his distracted approval, though his sister did not think he had really paid much attention to any of it. Attributing it to disinterest in such things in general, she did not question him on it, nor notice the shadow behind his eyes although Aragorn did.

Meanwhile, supper at Imrahil's was a quiet affair, but as they prepared to leave the table, Amrothos asked his sister, "Lothiriel, does something trouble you? You have been very solemn this evening."

She blinked in confusion, as though she had not been listening to him, but after a moment she merely said, "I am fine. Do not be concerned. I am sure Lady Morwen will be up and around soon and all will be well."

Somehow Amrothos did not believe that Morwen's health was the source of his sister's disquiet, but he allowed her to excuse herself to go and check on their guest. Watching her walk away, Erchirion observed, "She _was_ very quiet tonight, and she has been more reserved than usual."

After just a brief moment, the brothers looked at one another and said in unison, "She is troubled by something." They knew her too well to think otherwise.

"Of course she is," Imrahil said firmly. "Lady Morwen is a dear friend and her concern is natural. Why would that surprise you?"

"Because I do not think that is what is on her mind. In fact, she seems almost unconcerned with that, as though she fully expects Morwen to be mended on the morrow. No, there is something else. She was fine at breakfast, so something happened during the day, something other than Morwen's swoon," Amrothos stubbornly insisted, as Erchirion nodded his agreement.

"Well, whatever it is, we must leave it for her to tell us when she is ready," Imrahil told them. "You know Lothiriel does not care to be pressed on private matters."

"Could you not speak with her, ask her?" Erchirion questioned. "She might tell you."

"No," Imrahil said firmly. "I will not attempt to force her confidence. If she wishes to discuss it, she knows I am always willing to listen. Beyond that, you will have to be patient."

xxxxx

A good night's sleep improved everyone's mood, even though it did little to alleviate the underlying causes. Eomer had always been pragmatic about things he could not change, and he did not intend to allow Lothiriel's refusal of him to impinge on the joy of Eowyn's wedding. As for Morwen, Lothiriel had indicated her illness was not serious and she would quickly recover – he would take the girl at her word.

Eowyn had already largely put concern for Morwen out of her thoughts, determined not to be drawn into the situation. She would much have preferred that her grandmother remain in Lossarnach rather than come to the City and create this tension on what was supposed to be a happy occasion. She could do nothing about Morwen's presence, but she was not going to let it deprive her of any enjoyment in her coming nuptials.

Lothiriel was the one finding it the most difficult not to be encumbered by distress at this time. She was truly concerned for Morwen's well-being, but believed her illness would be brief. No, the greatest encroachment on her peace of mind was the matter of that marriage proposal. Her father had not spoken of it, so she felt reasonably sure that Eomer had not told him about the offer. At least that was a blessing – she did not really wish to talk about it with Imrahil, though she was convinced he would be understanding of her stance and not attempt to force her to reconsider.

No, the issue that distressed her most were her own deepest feelings. That Eomer had chosen her was highly flattering, and for just an instant she had allowed herself to believe he harbored feelings for her that she had not previously discerned. But then she had looked at his eyes and realized the truth of it – she was a solution to a problem, nothing more. She had been crushed, even while part of her had wanted to accept his offer regardless of that tiny detail. But she could not do it. She had come to love this man, even knowing of his stubborn pride and, despite the differences in their ages and cultures, had hoped something might develop between them over time. His unemotional, well-planned proposal had dashed such illusions, and made her feel silly and childish.

Regardless of all that, however, there was no escaping the connection. With his sister marrying her cousin, renewed relations between Rohan and Gondor, and most of all the great friendship that had formed between the king and her male family members, she would find herself in his company far too often. At least he did not strike her as the vindictive sort, who would seek to embarrass or humiliate her; indeed, she rather hoped his stubborn pride would play to her advantage and he would be as desirous as she to keep the whole matter concealed.

She had rather expected that Morwen would suspect something was amiss, and even guess what it might be, so she had not hesitated to speak to the older woman of it. It would not benefit her in any way if Morwen really did speak to Eomer about his folly, and counsel him to act differently in any future proposals, but caring for him as Lothiriel did, she hoped he would listen. If things were not meant to be between the two of them, she at least did not wish to see him unhappily married because he chose his bride poorly and for the wrong reasons.

Her refusal to tell Eomer much of Morwen's health concerns only added to her trepidation in seeing him again. The lady herself was much improved the morning after her episode, and even insisted on getting up to eat her meals sitting at the dressing table rather than lying in bed. She felt the need to rest more than usual, but her improvement was so marked that Aragorn went ahead with the plans for a bridal supper that evening, even though Morwen had declined attending.

Luckily for Lothiriel, she was seated some distance from Eomer, though she caught his gaze upon her more than once. She got the impression he was evaluating her behavior to determine what she had told anyone of their encounter, and he seemed satisfied with the conclusions that he drew. Her brothers, too, were watching her more than she wanted, but she knew she had been quite out of sorts the previous day, and likely they had discerned it was not entirely about Morwen. In order to assuage their concerns, she made a greater effort to give the appearance that nothing was amiss, and by the time the meal was half over they seemed to have accepted her pretense as fact.

The following day, Eomer was to meet with Imrahil to discuss trade between their two lands, though upon his arrival at the townhouse, he was informed that Imrahil had been called away briefly, but would return within the hour.

"May I wait in the garden?" Eomer inquired. "I have nowhere I need to be and it is both pleasant and secluded."

"Of course, my lord," the steward told him with a bow. "Shall I have refreshment brought to you there?"

"Yes, I would like that. I know the way on my own," Eomer answered, starting to turn away.

"My lord, would you prefer wine, or we have some freshly-pressed, chilled apple juice that is very refreshing," the man offered before he could go.

Without hesitation, Eomer told him with a grin, "The apple juice sounds good. It brings back memories of my childhood!"

The man smiled in returned, bowed again and moved off to the kitchen as Eomer made his way outside. The garden was even more lush than he recalled and it immediately eased the perpetual tension that seemed to plague him lately. He sauntered over to lean against a tree, allowing his thoughts to drift far from the landscape around him.

He had been relieved that Lothiriel had not spoken of his proposal to others – he had not relished the idea of answering questions, or worse, listening to arguments. Even Imrahil did not seem aware of it, though he would not be surprised if the girl had told his grandmother. He wasn't sure why the two of them were so close, but Lothiriel's championing of Morwen and efforts to prevail upon him and Eowyn to make peace, proved that it was so. If Lothiriel was in Morwen's confidence as to the former queen's health, then he felt sure Morwen knew of the proposal.

"I gave you more credit, boy." Morwen's voice broke into Eomer's reverie.

He did not bother to look at her. "To what are you referring, Grandmother?" he asked with a sigh. He was not particularly in the mood to suffer her less-than-subtle chastisements just now.

"Oh, do not tax my patience! You know very well what I mean!" Morwen snapped, shuffling to a bench and seating herself with great care.

Her demeanor irritated him for no reason that he could identify, and he retorted, "If you refer to my dealings with Lady Lothiriel, then I do not see that it is any of _your_ concern. My life has not held your attention in the past; there is no reason that it should do so now!" He had not planned the rebuke, but upon voicing it he realized that despite his seeming disinterest he had been hurt, just as Eowyn was, by their grandmother's chosen absence all those years. Her interference now struck him as very presumptuous.

Morwen was silent for several long minutes, studying him, then said quietly, "No, and that is clearly something you and Eowyn do not intend to let me forget, or make amends. Still, though you think me not entitled to know of _your_ concerns, I notice that did not stop you inquiring into _mine_."

She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, making him go still. Lothiriel must have told her of his questions. There was no reason that she shouldn't but he hadn't expected it. Less belligerently he explained, "I was worried about you. It is my duty."

"_Indeed_?" she said tersely, making no other comment, but turning away to gaze over the gardens. At length, she looked back to meet his eyes directly. "I am an old woman, Eomer. My health…well, to say it is failing is not precisely accurate, but I feel the years more and more as time goes on. My steps have slowed and my hands falter. There is no way of knowing how much time remains to me. My heritage suggests that I might yet live twenty or more years, though I am not sure that I wish for that. I am…tired."

He could not hold her gaze at the frank confession, and lowered his eyes to stare at a patch of grass near her feet. Finally he asked, "Why did you not mention this to me before now? Without my asking?"

She raised that annoying eyebrow again. "I did not get the impression that you cared to know of such things," she replied pointedly.

He wheeled away from her and strode a few feet off, irritated by the guilt coursing through him. What right did she have to act as though he had somehow failed her, when the reverse was true? Without conscious thought, he moved to the offensive in the conversation rather than simply parry her blows. "I do not know what you have heard, but I did nothing amiss in my dealings with Lady Lothiriel."

"_Nothing amiss_…" Morwen repeated quietly and pointedly.

Now he did turn to face her fully. "You know perfectly well that such marriages are usual among the Gondorian nobility. It was to be expected that she would be honored to accept the offer of being made queen of Rohan, sealing a pact between our two lands through marriage! If not me, she will merely marry someone else for such advantageous reasons!"

Morwen sighed and closed her eyes. "How little you know of women, my dear." Her eyes came open and pinned him in place as she elaborated. "No woman, even those of the Gondorian nobility, _wishes_ to marry without love, or at least some affection. They may have little choice in doing so, but all _hope_ for something more."

"Lothiriel is a lovely girl, I grant you, but did you expect me to lie about my feelings and pretend more than I did?" he demanded.

"Lothiriel is a _woman_, Eomer. A very fine and accomplished woman. As I am sure you know, she has had to grow up more quickly than most, not having a mother to raise her. At a very young age she took over responsibility for her father's household, and did the job admirably. Later, Elphir's wife assisted her, it is true, but for the most part she did it all on her own. Yes, she is young, especially by Numenorean standards, but she is a woman full grown."

She paused, studying him thoughtfully, then asked, "I am sure you settled upon Lothiriel to be queen of the Eorlingas for very practical reasons – her suitability as Imrahil's daughter, her charming manner and her exceptional looks – but did you give any consideration to the qualities you wished for in a wife? Marriage and heirs are an expediency that no king can avoid, but understand this, Eomer – the Mark will never prosper as you wish if it is not led by a king and queen united by love. Love will bind the Mark together in a way that nothing else can, and if you merely seek a wife for her 'suitability' as queen, then you will be failing your people from the outset."

Before he could react to assist her, Morwen heaved herself to her feet. "I am tired and will lie down for awhile before supper. Do think about what I have said. I am an old woman, it is true, but I have seen and learned much in my many years. Do not make a foolish mistake that you must live with for the rest of your life, my dearest boy." Her eyes softened briefly as she gazed at him a moment, before turning to shuffle inside the house.

He watched her go, too astonished by the conversation to act. Despite their arguing, her words held every evidence of concern for his well-being and happiness. Moreover, she was right. He could not dispute anything she had counseled. He had let everyone else's urging him to marry to cause him to act irrationally. It had been wrong to expect Lothiriel to marry him without even the merest hint of affection on his part. Why would anyone – man or woman – choose such an arrangement? Just because it was typical in Gondorian society did not mean he needed to support it with his own participation. That would be doing no one, least of all himself, any favors.

Sighing heavily, he settled on the bench that Morwen had vacated. He owed Lothiriel an apology, though he wasn't entirely sure she wished him to approach her even with that. Her behavior at supper the previous night made her wariness of him quite clear. Even so, he must attempt it. He would not have her think him completely callous and unfeeling. His gaze strayed to where Morwen had entered the house. And now, more than ever, he wanted to know the full story of why Morwen was in Gondor rather than the Mark. He still might not approve of her reasons, but he was determined to know what they were.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.


	7. Chapter 7

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 7**

Eowyn was a beautiful bride, and Lothiriel had never seen her cousin so blissfully happy. It both thrilled and pricked her to see it. She could not help feeling envious of what the couple had found in each other, particularly since she was beginning to seriously doubt that she could hope for anything similar. Her eyes had wanted to twitch toward Eomer at that thought, but she refused to allow it. He was no longer an option. He did not love her, and now that she had rejected him there was no chance of an alliance in the future. She must look elsewhere for some semblance of the love she desired, something vaguely resembling what she was witnessing today between the happy bridal couple.

The entire City celebrated long into the night, and though Morwen attended the wedding itself and the wedding feast, she did not linger for the dancing and merriment afterwards. Only because she thought it might raise questions she was reluctant to answer did Lothiriel remain most of the evening rather than retire when Morwen departed on Elphir's arm. She smiled and danced and sipped wine, but under the circumstances her heart could not fully be engaged with the activities. Eomer did not approach her to dance, for which she was grateful, though to be fair he danced very little with anyone. She had seen him dance before, even been his partner on several occasions, and knew he was quite good at it, so clearly it was not lack of ability restraining him.

Lothiriel had received with mixed emotions word from her father that the young king would be coming to Dol Amroth during the summer. Imrahil had spent a great deal of time at Minas Tirith, counseling with King Elessar as they got all in order, but by then it was expected that the Prince could finally return home. Occasional visits and regular correspondence would likely suffice going forward, though Elessar confessed a reluctance to release Imrahil.

It seemed all of Middle-earth was seeking to find its place in this new world. With Imrahil spending so much time in the north, Elphir had taken on a more active role in ruling at Dol Amroth, and the Prince had admitted he was hoping to see his heir continue even once he returned home.

Morwen had recovered quickly from her indisposition, and after the wedding, Lothiriel accompanied her back to Lossarnach for a fortnight's visit. Once there, she saw how much the lady and Morlach enjoyed being reunited, and on impulse she invited them both to come to Dol Amroth when they sailed in two months' time.

"I am not sure that is wise, dear," Morwen said with a smile. "Remember what Morlach did to your garden at Minas Tirith."

"Yes, but we have kennels at the palace where he can stay. There is plenty of room for the dogs to run, or the kennel boys take them for walks. And I can take Morlach down to the beach to let him really stretch his legs and work off his excess of energy. Besides, I know you will be happier if he is nearby so that you can visit him more often. I was aware of how much you missed him while we were in the City for the wedding," Lothiriel explained.

"I did miss him, you are right," Morwen acknowledged, stroking the little dog's head as he sprawled contentedly in her lap. "I know he can be disagreeable, but I adore him. He has proven to be a devoted companion to me." Her eyes misted at her words, and Lothiriel could guess the reason – that perhaps he had been the woman's _only_ true companion for some time. She had never said so, but it was clear that the enmity with her grandchildren hurt her a great deal. When she couldn't be with them, it was not so hard, but now that they kept seeing one another, it was difficult not being able to overcome their bruised feelings and establish a new, better relationship.

"Then it is decided!" Lothiriel asserted. "Both of you will come with us. I know you will enjoy the sea, and likely Morlach will love being able to so easily dig in the sand!" They both laughed then. The little dog did seem to take inordinate pleasure in making holes in the ground.

"You are too kind to me, my dear, but I thank you for it. I have so enjoyed having you with me. I shall be sorry when life is back to its usual routine and we are parted by distance without reason for such frequent visits," Morwen said, sorrow tinging her voice.

Lothiriel felt her regret and was no less lamentful of the separation that would eventually come. "Well, then I shall simply have to make greater effort to come north and visit," she said decisively. "And you are always welcome in our home, in Dol Amroth or Minas Tirith, whenever you wish it. You do not need an invitation – I make one to you now that stands forever. You need only make sure we are not already overcrowded with other guests." She smiled at the little dog and added, "And I will even invite Morlach, whatever repairs I need to make to the garden afterwards!"

Morwen laughed, but understood that the offer was most sincere. "Ah, dear girl, you are a delight! I am so very glad your father did not leave you at Dol Amroth during the War. You have been a ray of sunshine during much bleakness. Now, come, help me up and let us go decide what I need to pack for the seashore, not that I am likely to actually spend much time on the sand – I have enough difficulty on solid ground!"

xxxxx

The two months had passed quickly. Morwen remained in Lossarnach until a week before their expected departure, and arrived in the White City only a few days before Eomer returned. Faramir had been desirous of sharing the seashore with his new bride, so they were also planning to accompany Imrahil south. When it was learned that Morwen was to be in their company, Eowyn expressed her displeasure to her brother. "Are we never to be free of her? She seems determined to foist herself on us at every turn!"

"Eowyn," he replied warningly, "she is dear friends with Lothiriel. It does not necessarily have anything to do with us. We cannot avoid the association now that we are once more closely allied with Gondor. You must accept that."

She shrugged in annoyance and dropped the subject, though Eomer was sure he had not convinced her.

At least for most of the boat ride they were little in Morwen's company, and so Eowyn did not have to pretend cordiality. Eomer still had not worked out, despite all the time that had intervened, how to apologize to Lothiriel. At least she seemed more relaxed with him, perhaps accepting his offer as merely ill-advised rather than with an intent to offend.

It had surprised him how often his thoughts had turned to her while he was at Meduseld. Somehow she had become the voice of his conscience, and several times when he had reacted before he thought a matter through, he heard her voice in his head, suggesting he be more judicious in his decisions. It was good advice; he could not deny that. In battle, one had to make hasty choices, but situations were not always so well-defined in politics. And he was discovering that it was far easier to take his time in responding than to change his stance afterwards. His pride did not permit him to readily admit he was wrong, so it was much better to choose wisely at the outset – just as she had recommended.

Their first day on the water, Eomer had found that few people ventured to the stern of the boat, and so he claimed the spot for his own, settled on a bench and watched the water slide away behind them. It was peaceful there, and he had time for contemplation that had never before been part of his daily activities. Having always been a person of action, being still was a new experience, but he found that it helped more than he would have imagined.

In his time spent alone, he formulated ideas for how he wanted to proceed with his reign, and what he hoped to accomplish in the Mark. The prospect of trade with Gondor and Dol Amroth opened up possibilities that had long been non-existent in his land, and he hoped it would help his people recover their lives and prosperity more quickly.

Another place he found solitude was in the hold with the horses. He was pleased that they had adapted so well to being transported on a boat. There had been some initial nervousness, but they had quickly settled. They were, however, restless after being cooped up for so long, and Firefoot clearly appreciated his visits, especially since he usually came with an apple or carrot secured from the galley.

"So this is where you have been hiding," Amrothos remarked, coming to stand at the door to Firefoot's stall.

"I have not been hiding," Eomer replied with a grin. "You thought I would go the entire trip without checking on my horse?"

"No, but you do seem to disappear quite a bit. Are you spending all that time down here?" his friend asked.

Eomer shrugged. "Some of it. I have also spent some time alone, in thought. This trip is proving quite restful, but it also has given me a chance to consider many things without others pressing for my attention."

"Like annoying friends trying to track you down?" Amrothos asked with a chuckle.

"You are not annoying," Eomer assured him with a laugh. "Did you need something or are you merely bored and seeking someone to amuse you?"

Amrothos presented his most innocent expression. "Me? Need someone to amuse me? What would make you ask that?"

"Experience!" Eomer asserted. "I have noticed how easily you are bored if you are not kept busy. Come – show me about the boat and explain how it all works. That should keep you amused for a few minutes."

"A few minutes? Exactly how much do you want me to tell you? It is a big wooden wagon without wheels that floats down the river, or is rowed up the river, carrying goods in each direction. What more could you possibly want to know?" Amrothos questioned.

With a laugh, Eomer replied, "Somehow your version of it is far less eloquent than Erchirion's! He goes on and on about how wonderful it is to be sailing."

"Whoa! Hold on, now! That is sailing, and it _is_ wonderful. This is not sailing!" Amrothos firmly avowed.

When Eomer arched a questioning eyebrow at him, he continued, "This…_this_ is trotting sedately around a ring on a magnificent warhorse for a couple of minutes and then giving him to a stablehand to put away. _This_ is just…getting from one place to another. It is dull and uninteresting!" Amrothos protested.

"Very well," Eomer chuckled, crossing his arms, "then _you_ think of something interesting. I have made my effort to amuse you."

Amrothos did keep them occupied, if not entertained, the rest of the day, and thereafter took it upon himself to seek Eomer out each day, thus curtailing the solitary sessions at the rear of the boat. As they were to arrive at Dol Amroth the next day, that was not a great burden.

The view of the ocean from the deck of a ship had been astonishing, when they cleared the mouth of Anduin and sailed past Tolfalas into the bay. In some respects, being surrounded by water on all sides was unnerving, but it also gave a great sense of freedom. Eomer realized he had missed that feeling. As evil had encroached on the Mark, it had become unsafe to travel alone and unfettered, wandering at will. And now that he was king, he was rarely unaccompanied by a guard. Though sleeping on a wide plain under an infinite expanse of sky had its pleasures, nothing quite evoked the feeling that all this horizon did. He stood gazing at it for a very long while.

"Glorious, is it not?" a voice asked from his right, and he turned at the sound. Lothiriel was not looking at him; her head was raised as though she were drinking the view into her very being, as a thirsty plant draws water.

"Yes," he replied, returning his gaze outward.

"My family has lived on the shores of this bay for many generations," Lothiriel remarked quietly, "and I grew up seeing this view every day. But it never ceases to touch something deep inside of me."

Her words drew his thoughts to his own homeland, and he realized he felt something similar for the Mark. Gazing upon herds of horses roaming plains filled with tall grass had always been…reassuring to him. And every day that he awoke and saw it made him more determined that none would ever take it from the Eorlingas.

Lothiriel had spoken very little to him since his proposal, so he was rather surprised by her conversation now. "I am sorry," he murmured quietly. "It was not my intent to presume too much by my offer to you." He had not meant to speak of that just now, despite his intention to apologize, but he supposed it was just as well that it was finally said.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she remained silent for several long minutes. At length she replied, "No offense was taken, my lord, but I thank you for the apology."

With a slight curtsy in his direction she moved away, and he sighed, not entirely convinced her response was fully truthful. He felt sure his proposal of marriage had unsettled her; certainly it had distanced them from one another. Until that moment, he had enjoyed her company and thought she felt the same. Now, however, she seemed cautious when he was near and he had no doubt of the reason. In some respects, it surprised him. Why would she be so discomposed by a mere offer? She had declined, they were the only ones that knew it had taken place, and there was no ill-will over the matter. But something more had to be at play here, for her to react as she did.

His musings were interrupted by the boat making its way inside the sea walls, causing his gaze to shift to Tirith Aear and the castle on the hill. Like Minas Tirith, it was built of white stone that glistened in the sunlight, but this building had a more ethereal look to it, lending credence to the rumors of an Elvish heritage for the princes of Dol Amroth.

Though eager to look around, Eomer and his escort were first concerned with seeing to their horses. Amrothos suggested, "Get them saddled and we will go for a short ride, to let them stretch their legs, and I can show you the shore as they do." This was agreed upon, so they prepared their mounts as their belongings were loaded into carts to be ferried to the palace.

It did not take long for the horses to get their feet under them once more, and they were soon ready for a run to work off their unexpended energy. The riders were no less eager to accommodate them, though they noted that it was more difficult for their mounts to run on the sand. After only a few minutes, Amrothos recommended, "Rein them in! This will prove more taxing than you or they realize. After standing for so long in one place you do not want to overdo it at the outset."

Recognizing the wisdom of the advice, the men drew in for the walk up the hill to the palace, as Amrothos pointed out various sights of interest along the way. Once they had seen their horses settled in the stable, Amrothos directed the men to their quarters before taking Eomer inside to his room.

The palace was light and airy, and a balmy breeze blew through the many open windows. It was far different than all the dark wood of Edoras, but Eomer found that he liked it very much. This looked to be a most pleasing visit. Lothiriel was coming down the stairs as they started up, and paused to inform them, "Everyone is settled in their room already, but some are intending to gather in the library in a short while to discuss activities, if you would care to join us, Eomer King."

It bothered him to have her revert to the more formal address, but Eomer decided now was not the time to request a change. Perhaps eventually she would be more willing to return to the informality they had previously achieved. "I will do that," he acknowledged with a nod, continuing on as Amrothos led him upward.

The gathering proved to include his sister and Faramir, Imrahil's three youngest children and Eomer. Morwen had laid down soon after arriving, and Imrahil was behind closed doors with Elphir, catching up with events during his absence. No one was surprised when Erchirion immediately offered to take everyone out on his boat. "We can explore some of the smaller islands nearby or merely enjoy a day on the water," he enthusiastically suggested.

Despite his friend's fervor, Eomer was not entirely eager to leave land so soon after their four-day journey, even if Amrothos was correct about the far greater appeal of sailing on the open water rather than along the Anduin. He saw an equal hesitancy in Eowyn's eyes, and Faramir apparently sensed their reluctance, saying, "I am sure we would all enjoy that, Erchirion, but as we have just landed perhaps we should give our guests a chance to recover first. Sailing is not a natural pursuit to the Rohirrim."

Erchirion could not fully conceal his disappointment, but accepted the suggestion with good grace. Other activities were discussed, and several settled upon. They whiled away a couple of hours, sipping wine, discussing the possibilities and then enjoying a cold dinner before each departed to their own interests.

Eowyn and Faramir made their way to Imrahil's private beach, and Eomer might have joined them had he not suspected they preferred to be alone together. Imrahil's family members each had things to claim their attention, but Eomer had been assured he was welcome to wander at will around their property or into town.

He explored the palace for a short while, meandering all the way to the uppermost floor where he found a solar with a glorious view in all directions. Standing there, it occurred to him how isolated and alone he was. Everyone in their party had someone or some thing to occupy their time, but he was separate from them all. Imrahil's family had each other, Eowyn now had Faramir, and Morwen had both Lothiriel and Morlach for company. Over the course of his life, Eomer had formed friendships – good ones, such as Eothain – but that was not entirely the same as the companionship he now was desiring. It came back to finding a wife, he supposed, though how he could expedite that he was not certain. Amrothos had indicated there would be a few parties during his visit, so perhaps he would meet a young lady then who appealed to him.

Not wanting to dwell further on such thoughts, he turned and made his way back down to the lower levels. The sound of voices drew him to a room off to his right, and from the door he spotted Lothiriel giving directions to the head housekeeper about supper that evening. He watched them unnoticed for a few minutes, then slipped away. Morwen was right about Lothiriel being very capable. Initially he had not had occasion to see her present herself while fully acting as the mistress of Imrahil's household, but over time he had seen more and more how well she ordered things at Minas Tirith. It was evident that she was no less capable here at Dol Amroth. She was surprisingly young for such a role, but he could not deny her aptitude.

When he exited the front of the palace, he found his guard, Walda, conversing with Imrahil's door guard. Instantly the man became alert and moved to join him. With the barest gesture of his head, Eomer directed Walda to accompany him, and they made their way down the long drive and out the palace gates. They wandered the town for more than an hour, idly looking in shop windows and walking along the waterfront. Two fair-haired men drew considerable notice, and many of the townspeople stopped to watch them go by, or whisper to their neighbor.

As the supper hour was nearing, they trekked back toward the palace, and Eomer released the guard for the night. By the time he had washed and returned downstairs, others were already gathering in the small family dining chamber. The meal included more seafood than Eomer was used to seeing offered, but other meats were made available for those who might not care for such things. All of it looked enticing, and Eomer was tempted to stick with the more recognizable fare, but on a whim decided to sample everything he had never eaten.

Morwen and Lothiriel were sitting across from him and each eyed him in surprise as he began to dish his plate. The first thing he took was a salmon filet – a familiar, safe bet – but he added some sauteed scallops and a few vegetables. When that was eaten, he reached for a small lobster and gingerly placed it in front of himself. Morwen had been slowly enjoying some soup as he devoured the salmon, but now she also claimed a lobster, drawing his notice. Without a word, she carefully and methodically worked her way through the process of breaking the creature open to retrieve the meat. Eomer snuck furtive glances as she progressed, following her example of how to proceed. In the end, though he found it tasty, he decided it was far too much work for him to be inclined to indulge very often.

As he leaned back in his chair, pushing the plate away from him, he glimpsed Lothiriel. She was carefully avoiding looking at him, but a smile twitched at her mouth and he suddenly realized she must have noticed his mimicking Morwen's movements. He could feel his face getting warm, though luckily his perpetual tan concealed any obvious sign of embarrassment. Still, he felt justified in his actions – he could have asked for assistance but it had been unnecessary, so why draw attention to his inexperience?

His gaze flicked to Morwen and, to his surprise, she met and held his eyes. After a moment, she looked down as she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, and he understood that she had known he needed guidance and had provided it without fanfare. A surge of gratitude shot through him, despite his astonishment at her courtesy.

This visit to Dol Amroth was not entirely to be one of leisure for Eomer, and after supper Imrahil told the young king of the arrangements that had been made on his behalf as everyone shifted to the library. There would be several meetings with traders, and a few gatherings at which he might become acquainted with the local merchants and nobility, but for the most part the prince intended to try to give his friend some reprieve from his duties.

Lothiriel was again pressed to entertain them, and her performance was enhanced by the familiarity of using her own harp as accompaniment. Since Faramir owned his mother's harp, Eowyn moved closer to observe Lothiriel's playing. When Lothiriel ended her song, Eowyn asked, "Would you be willing to give me some instruction in playing? I learned a little about playing lap harp as a child growing up at Meduseld, but never had sufficient interest to pursue it at the time. I think I should like to do so now, that our home may be filled with music."

"I should be happy to do so, though I do not know that I am especially expert at it," Lothiriel replied with a laugh. But for the remainder of the evening she alternated between performing, and offering instructions to Eowyn.

Just as at Edoras, Eomer found the music relaxing and absorbing. He did not recall ever before being so aware of music. "Your daughter has considerable talent," he remarked to Imrahil as the Prince took a seat nearby.

"Indeed," Imrahil agreed. "My sister taught her, using my wife's harp. Lothiriel was only seven when she died, and quite bereft at the loss. I believe she needed a connection to her mother, and thankfully Ivriniel saw that. My daughter has not always been the best pupil, but she does appear to have a natural bent for it. And certainly we all benefit from her skill."

Eomer bit back a smile at the warm fatherly accolades, but they did strike him as fully warranted in this case. He settled more deeply into his chair and let the music wash over him. Life had changed greatly when a consummate warrior could find such pleasure being entertained at a palace recital. Good music and good conversation with friends – he had much for which he could be grateful.

xxxxx

Though the visit to Dol Amroth was intended for rest and relaxation, there was also business to be attended. Imrahil had charged Elphir to arrange meetings for Eomer with many of the tradesmen so they could begin discussions on future trade. On the journey home, Eomer and his escort would travel via the Dimholt Road and assess its potential as a shortened route with the coastal cities. With an eye to not overtaxing their guest, Elphir had kept it to just a couple of meetings a day, leaving Eomer much free time to enjoy himself.

Having lived most of his life, it seemed, moving at full speed, Eomer found it difficult to adjust to such a relaxed pace. The few meetings required his attention at specific times and places, but the remainder of the next couple of days were far more discretionary. He could not, and did not, expect Eowyn and Faramir to keep him amused, and they often were gone before the others had gathered for the morning meal. Occasionally they returned before day's end, but no one counted on their presence.

Even his hosts had other concerns to occupy them now that they were in their own home. While Eomer felt sure he could request their company, for the most part he preferred to let them offer when it was convenient for them to spare the time. He and Eothain had walked about the town several times and were well acquainted with the place now. It had not taken long for his captain to sniff out the best taverns – the ones he claimed served reasonably good ale and had the prettiest girls working there.

After they had been in Dol Amroth a few days, Erchirion again pressed to take everyone out on his boat, and this time the party was more amenable to the idea. They made plans for the following day, but a storm blew in that evening and it was clear they would need to delay until a later time.

Over drinks after supper, Eomer eyed Erchirion curiously and asked, "My friend, something puzzles me. I have been down to the harbor a few times since my arrival, but all the craft I see there seem intended for commerce. Amrothos pointed out your boat to me on one occasion, but I do not see others who appear to use such vessels for…amusement."

Erchirion grinned sheepishly and admitted, "True. Most do not use them for pleasure. That is my own invention. My boat is actually a fishing boat that has been altered for more comfort. I simply enjoy being on the water, and so I found a means to accomplish it. One can make a practical use of the boat if necessary, but that is no longer its primary purpose."

Everyone chuckled at his confession, though Faramir offered, "While you may presently be the only one doing so, Cousin, I do not think that will always be so. I have heard comments by those who are aware of your enjoyment in pleasure sailing, and some have considered copying your actions. Who knows but what the years ahead will bring many more such craft onto our waterways."(7)

"I welcome the company," Erchirion avowed. "It is always pleasant to share such an avocation with other enthusiasts!"

His further comments were intended to spur similar enthusiasm in his new friends, but as the weather continued stormy all the next day, the outing had to be postponed indefinitely. For the time being, they had to take his word for the pleasure to be had on such a venture.

The rain itself was intermittent over the next two days. Around his meetings, during the times when there was a reprieve in the weather, Eomer seized the opportunity to be outdoors. Since becoming king it seemed he spent entirely too much time inside buildings and inactive, and that was not his preference. He had gotten in the habit of at least one daily walk along the Prince's private beach. Since the borders of it were already well-protected, he did not need a personal guard attending him and it allowed him a rare seclusion from others.

Today's walk was one of discovery. The storm had deposited a great deal of debris on the beach, and Eomer wandered idly along, pausing occasionally to look more closely at odd things washed in from the sea. Though the rain had temporarily stopped, the day was still mostly cool and overcast, and the wind was whipping white caps in the water. He breathed deeply of the sea air, letting it fill him completely. There was something exhilarating about the sea after a storm, and he had a clearer idea of why his friends found it so appealing.

A flash of color among the rocks off to his right drew his notice and he moved curiously in that direction to investigate its source. As he came closer, he saw that it was a woman, standing among some rocks and bent over a pool of water left behind by the receding water. After a moment, he realized it was Lothiriel, but this was Lothiriel as he had never seen her. She had mentioned to him that she was often to be found barefoot on the beach, and this clearly was one of those occasions.

Her long, loose skirt had been pulled forward between her legs, and then up to be tucked into a sash belt around her waist. The effect was to almost turn her skirt into short trousers, such as the Hobbits wore, baring her lower legs all the way to the knee. It was his experience that an attractive female's clothes either accentuated her womanly charms or concealed them. As a brother, he favored concealment, though Eowyn had never much cared what his opinion was on the matter. But, as a man, he much preferred the accentuating. In this particular instance, Eomer was not sure he found Lothiriel's attire to be very attractive, no matter how well she wore it, but there was no question that it could not disguise her beauty. Not to mention that her carefree, windblown appearance drew attention to her innate naturalness of manner. There was something almost wild about her as she stood in the water, tousled and completely at one with her surroundings. He was fairly certain it was rude for him to be perusing her so while she was unaware, but he did not turn away. A grin twitched at his mouth. Such a glimpse of shapely calves and well-turned ankles was rare. He could not quite bring himself to waste it.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there watching her, unsure what precisely she was doing, but at length, she straightened up, resting her back, and noticed him. Seeing he was discovered, Eomer moved toward her, calling out, "What occupies your attention there?"

Lothiriel's cheeks had pinked as she realized her disheveled appearance, but she made no move to improve it. She was not going to jump through hoops to please this man and win his approval. "It is a tide pool," she finally responded, gesturing toward the rocks and water behind her. "When the tide goes out, it leaves water trapped in pools where various creatures live and some plants grow."

He considered this, but persisted, "Yes, but what were you doing? You seemed to be studying something."

She nodded, and fished a small starfish from her collection, holding it out for him to see. "I am collecting a few samples. I thought if Lady Morwen could not visit the sea, then perhaps I could take a bit of the sea to her." Eomer reached out a tentative finger and touched the thing in Lothiriel's hand. It was softer than it appeared, and he grinned in fascination as Lothiriel added, "I think she will enjoy seeing these." She replaced the creature gently into her bucket of sea water.

"She is interested in such things, is she?" he asked reluctantly, not particularly wanting Morwen to be part of their conversation. For a moment, it had almost seemed they might manage a cordial discussion without bickering over his relatives.

"She has an agile mind and is interested in a great many things," Lothiriel replied pointedly. He had stiffened at the mention of his grandmother, not wishing another argument with the girl on the subject, but even though she had not been looking at him she seemed to sense his resistance to her remarks. Lifting her eyes to meet his gaze, and tilting her chin defiantly upward, she asked challengingly, "Does it bother you that others enjoy Lady Morwen's company when you do not?"

This dispute was growing tiresome, but moreover it suddenly occurred to Eomer that his sister had given no indication of receiving similar chastisements from Lothiriel. Moving to the offensive, he retorted, "Tell me, Lothiriel, is there a reason that you only take me to task over this matter? Eowyn has not mentioned your doing the same to her."

She faltered at that, not expecting the response, but also suddenly conscious of the truth in his words. Why hadn't she spoken to Eowyn about her behavior, but had done so to the king on several occasions now? Why did it seem so much more important to persuade _him_ to yield? In her heart, she knew the answer, even if she did not wish to admit it aloud, especially to him. No, dwelling on that would only bring her more pain.

Glancing away, she shrugged and told him, "It…has…never come up, that is all. And, besides, between the two of you, you have always seemed the least resistant to the idea of a reconciliation. For the moment, Eowyn closes her ears to anything having to do with Lady Morwen."

That much, Eomer could not deny – Eowyn was strong-willed and not likely to yield any time soon. But he still found it curious that Lothiriel persisted so in arguing with him. The trouble was, he was not sure he truly minded that she did. It irritated him at the time, but he knew she was only telling him what he needed to hear, and what no one else was likely to dare saying to him. And, more than that, he knew that she cared – about him, about Morwen – and only wanted to help put to rest the grievances of the past. She was not attacking him for any proud or selfish reasons, and he was…grateful for her concern.

The atmosphere had become uncomfortable during their exchange, and he thought hard what to say that might ease it. "Do you need help carrying anything?" he finally queried, completely changing the subject.

If she was startled by the abrupt new topic of conversation, she hid it well. "I…am not yet ready to go in. The tide will be out awhile longer so there is still time to collect shells. But I can manage on my own, though I thank you for the offer."

Her reply was formal and polite, and thoroughly unsatisfying. How had he gone from admiring her trim legs to bickering with her? He stood on a remote beach with a beautiful woman before him, and instead of more pleasant pursuits they were arguing. With a sigh, he nodded and turned away. The earlier peace that had filled him had evaporated, and it felt as though clouds had blocked the sun. When would there ever be more to his life than gloom and shadow?

For several minutes, Lothiriel silently watched him walk down the beach. More than any other man she had ever known, she was drawn to this one. No one else had ever inspired her to give true thought to matrimony, nor hurt her so much by the way he approached her, clearly without feelings similar to her own. Had the enmity with Morwen bled into his relationship with her, and had she somehow caused that to happen? Should she have kept silent on that issue and let them handle the matter as they saw fit, without her interference?

Even as she considered these questions, she knew she could not have acted any differently. What good was having his love if she was unable to speak her mind? And how could she avoid being caught between him and Morwen when both had come to be so very dear to her?

With a sigh of her own, Lothiriel turned back to her earlier pursuit, though much of the joy had gone out of the activity after talking with Eomer. Even as much as it would grieve her not to see him, she would be glad when he returned to Rohan and she could avoid such unhappy encounters.

Eomer did not return directly to the Palace after leaving Lothiriel. He was too out of sorts to want to have to explain himself to anyone. He had thought the subject of his proposal was behind them, but now he suspected it was part of the difficulty they had being in each other's company. Morwen was at the root of it, but there was more. He had been surprised and frustrated when Lothiriel refused his offer of marriage; and, yes, even a little angry. Only now did he realize he still harbored some resentment about it. Was marriage to him such a terrible notion?

He rubbed a hand over his face in aggravation – a ridiculous question! It had not been about that at all; Lothiriel simply had not wanted to marry a man who clearly did not love her, indeed was not even demonstrating any real affection for her. He could not fault her on that. Morwen had been right – he had badly muddled the whole thing. He should never have allowed others to make him feel pressured into acting in haste. What if he had chosen someone else, someone eager to marry a king even without affection? He might have found himself trapped in a loveless marriage all of his days. He would have done his duty to the Mark, but not to Eomer of Rohan. Lothiriel's words came back to him: _'I have always desired to marry for love. I choose to wait awhile longer for that to happen, before necessity drives me to consider another course.'_ Did he not owe it to himself to do the same. Perhaps he might one day have to settle for less than that as a matter of expediency, but was that day truly upon him yet?

He had walked some distance down the shore, but now he stopped and looked back in the direction where he knew Lothiriel was, even though he could not presently see her. It bothered him to have them at odds. Even if they were not to marry, he would have liked to claim her as a friend. Except when discussing his grandmother, he had enjoyed her company, and found she lifted his spirits with her cheerful manner.

_Morwen_. His jaw clinched with determination – it was time to find out the truth. If he must continue to argue his stance with Lothiriel, he at least wanted to argue it from a position of strength, knowing all the facts. Perhaps knowing would change his opinion, and perhaps it would not, but he was resolved to find out the truth.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.

ch 7: (7)As ever, many thanks to Lady Bluejay for her guidance on all things nautical. I don't think she realized her remarks in response to m question (about what kind of boat Erchirion would have) would be incorporated into the storyline to this extent!


	8. Chapter 8

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 8**

The inclement weather kept even Eowyn and Faramir indoors, and Eomer was visited by his sister during a break between meetings. "How does it go?" she asked, settling in a chair across the desk from him. "Will trade be possible?

He leaned back and gave her a shrug. "Perhaps, eventually. Much of what they want to offer is not something we have great need of at the moment. Once we are better recovered, I am sure our people will enjoy more variety in their choices. For now, I am mostly concerned with finding traders of the necessities that we need, and finding something that we have which will prove acceptable to them in exchange." He paused in thought and then added, "I am thinking that if the Dimholt proves useful for travel, we might be able to get things to the Westfold more quickly than bringing them from Minas Tirith. From what Aragorn told me, the pass through the mountain should be wide enough for wagon loads. The difficulty is the switchback road leading up the mountain from our side. It will not tolerate very large wagons, so that may limit the size of anything brought in that way."

Eowyn nodded her understanding, then asked, "Are they interested in the wool we can offer? Until we rebuild our herds, horses are not our best trade, though we could bring stallions to Gondor and charge a fee for them to breed their mares."

"I had thought of that. There is considerable interest in the breeding, if they cannot merely buy the horses, though a trained animal will bring much more money. And, yes, they were interested in the wool, though moreso in Minas Tirith than here in the south where it does not get so cold," Eomer explained.

Eowyn shoved to her feet and smiled at him. "Good luck with all of this. Do let me know if I can be of any help to you. And do make time to enjoy being here. The work cannot be ignored, but you could use some rest and entertainment!"

He snickered at her, commenting, "Though I notice you are never around to see that I get it! I assume Faramir is well? I have seen little of either of you, except at meals and not always then!"

She turned toward the door, laughing over her shoulder at him. "Faramir is very well, and you will continue to see very little of us – we are, after all, on our honeymoon."

"_That_ should have ended months ago!" he called after her as she disappeared out the door.

He could see a servant approaching with the next tradesman, and he settled back into a more serious demeanor, but he was grateful for the interlude Eowyn had provided him.

xxx

Eventually, the summer storm did pass entirely, and by the next day the sun had returned to warm the shores once again. Having spent the morning in meetings with tradesmen, Eomer was ready to be outside in the fresh air and sunshine.

He strolled onto the balcony of the library, working his shoulders to ease the tenseness there. It was not long before Imrahil appeared, greeting the king as he came to stand beside him. After several minutes of companionable silence, the prince ventured, "Eomer, you have been very quiet since arriving here. Does something trouble you? Are the trade negotiations not going well? I am happy to offer my assistance in any way that you desire."

Eomer looked down at his hands grasping the railing, a wry smile twisting his mouth. Should he tell his friend that his troubled spirit was not the result of trade relations, but rather Eomer's relations with women, and in particular the prince's own daughter? He thought that unwise. Imrahil clearly had never learned of Eomer's botched marriage proposal and he preferred that it remain so. He could only think on it now with embarrassment; that would be greatly increased were others to know of his foolhardy behavior. And, truthfully, he did not think there was any advice that Imrahil could offer, regarding his own daughter or as pertained to Eomer's grandmother. No, he would have to work things out on his own.

"You are kind to offer," he finally responded, "but I do not believe there is any help you may give. I just have a great deal on my mind and must determine how I wish to proceed." He straightened and gave his friend a reassuring smile. "You are merely to blame for providing so peaceful a spot and so much free time for me to give free rein to my thoughts!"

Imrahil chuckled at the remark, though he wished it had revealed his friend more accepting of guidance. But, he knew the Rohirrim well after all these months, so the young man's attitude did not surprise him. Eventually Eomer might seek Imrahil's counsel, as he had done on several previous occasions, but it would be done in his own time and way. Until then, the prince could only make sure the king felt comfortable coming to him when that moment arrived.

Clapping Eomer on the shoulder, he reiterated, "Well, I am happy to help. Know that, and if matters change, please do not hesitate to make use of me." He moved away and Eomer watched his course through the library and out into the hall.

After several minutes of idleness, he shoved himself away from the railing and headed inside himself. Passing through the house, he had no fixed purpose in mind, but sunshine definitely figured in there somewhere. His feet found their way to a garden he had visited more than once while in Dol Amroth.

He had no particular thoughts as he entered the garden, but the sight of it reminded him of the garden at Meduseld. And that thought inevitably made him think of his grandmother…and Lothiriel. His mouth twisted in grim amusement – he was supposed to be a good king to the Mark when he could not even adequately manage his own life?

While his thoughts meandered, so did his feet and he found himself at a bench situated beneath a shade tree. Settling on it, he smiled at the magnificent view it afforded of the harbor. Certainly the people of Dol Amroth knew how to focus on the picturesque. Any time he had come upon incredible scenery – and there was much of it here – there always seemed to be an accommodating bench nearby where one could sit and enjoy their surroundings.

There was a branch that had broken loose and fallen from the tree. It was resting partly against the end of the bench, and he reached for it. Though he had not had any purpose for doing so, once it was in his hands, he automatically fished out his knife and made some small, careful cuts to the wood. It had been a very long while since he had indulged in this amusement, but his fingers still remembered what they needed to do, even if the knife was not especially suited to the task. Settling back, he idly worked on it, with occasional glances up at the ocean.

"Theodred was very good at carving wood," Morwen said quietly, eyeing the branch he was working on. He had been so absorbed by the view and his work that he had not noticed her approach – something very rare for him.

Without looking up, Eomer paused, rubbing his thumb thoughtfully along the length of the wood. After a moment, he replied, "I know. He is the one who taught me, when I came to live at Meduseld. I think he understood it would help me grieve if I had something to focus on outside of myself."

She shuffled over and seated herself nearby, then told him, "Dear Theodred. How I miss him, even now."

Turning his head to look at her, Eomer said, "He always spoke most warmly of you. Not in front of Eowyn – it upset her – but he often mentioned you to me as it did not seem to bother me so much to listen."

"Did not _seem_ to bother you…even though it did?" Morwen asked.

Eomer looked away from her perceptive eyes, then gave a shrug before nodding acknowledgement.

When he fell silent, Morwen remarked, "I would have thought your father would have been the one to teach you wood carving. Eomund was quite talented also, though he had little time for it."

"No," Eomer sighed, ducking his head, "no, he did not teach me. He said that he would, but somehow he never found the time."

Morwen nodded in understanding. "I suppose that is not so unexpected. Your father had seen the increasing destruction caused by orcs, and lost many friends and comrades to the battle. He became near obsessed with removing the blight from our lands, whatever the cost. But I do not think he ever truly believed that the cost would be his life. He always expected to return home to Theodwyn and you children at the end of the day. In that, he clearly miscalculated."

Looking back at her, Eomer quietly questioned, "Why did you leave the Mark? I would truly wish to know."

Sensing the truth in his words, she nodded again. "Yes, and you should." For several minutes she was silent, considering what to say, then began, "I never intended to leave for good, but then much in life does not turn out as we expect. Within a span of years equal to your life, I lost a great many people who were most dear to me. First my birth family – both my parents, my brother and his wife – and then many members of my own family. Elfhild, Thengel and two of my daughters were taken, so when Ethelwyn fell ill I hastened to Lossarnach to care for her, and eventually her child, as it turned out. When they also died, I had not the heart to go anywhere or do anything. My home in Lossarnach is the same house where my family first lived upon settling in those vales, and it gave me some comfort that nothing else did. Before I recovered from those sorrows, Eomund and Theodwyn were snatched away and I simply could not face going back. When I came to tend Ethelwyn, I fully expected to one day return to the Mark and live out my days there, but…it did not happen. Now it simply seems too late to uproot myself for what little time I may have left. Having lost Theoden and Theodred just recently, I found when I was there for the funeral that Meduseld no longer felt very much like home to me. Other than you and Eowyn, no one I once loved was there, though I heard the whispers of their voices in the halls. It was almost more than I could bear."

"You…hid it well," Eomer responded with a husky voice after regaining control of himself. "I never suspected the toll it was taking."

She eyed him closely, then said, "None did, except for Lothiriel. She is quite insightful. I suspect that is part of the reason she was so eager to restore the garden – in hopes it would cheer me some for the duration of our stay."

Eomer nodded but did not comment. It would seem he had underestimated Lothiriel, in more ways than one. This was just further evidence to feed his regret.

"Did it help?" he finally asked, not wanting to dwell on his thoughts.

"Perhaps, a little. I think, in many ways, it was good to go back, for it gave me the chance to say the farewell that I never truly did the first time I departed. And seeing the garden regaining its beauty gave me hope for the Mark, hope beyond its new king." When his mouth twisted with rue at her words, she amended, "I do not mean to suggest that I think you will fail as king, Eomer. I just saw with my own eyes how very much ground you need to cross in the recovery. I was pleased to see the regard the Eorlingas have for you, and I am confident you will rule well and wisely. The garden…it simply helped me to believe the challenges you faced were not insurmountable."

"Thank you," Eomer told her quietly, surprised by the vote of confidence in him. "I will do my best."

"You will do fine," she assured him. "As I have come to know you, I see that you inherited the best qualities from both your parents. Eomund's impulsiveness is tempered by Theodwyn's practicality. You are proud and stubborn, yes, but then most Eorlingas are – but you are willing to consider other possibilities. That is a very good thing as we enter a new age of Man."

He rubbed his face wearily and answered, "I hope you are right. There are times when it all seems completely overwhelming to me. Riding, fighting orcs – that came fairly easy, but ruling a people and seeing to their needs is not what I expected to do with my life."

"All the more reason for you to choose wisely when selecting a wife," Morwen said with a smile. "Do remember what I told you before. If you are unhappy in your marriage, everything else you face will be made all the more difficult for you." She turned her gaze away from him before adding, "And now I will leave you to your whittling. There is time to get in a visit with Morlach before supper, and I want to take him a treat."

He rose and offered his hand to help her up. "Perhaps you would permit me to escort you?"

A glint of surprise flashed in her eyes, but she merely smiled. "I should like that very much, dear boy."

xx

If anyone wondered at the change between Eomer and his grandmother, no one commented on it at supper that evening. Likely Eowyn remained too distracted by Faramir to pay it much mind, but the king caught Lothiriel watching him several times when she thought he did not notice.

She had been right all along. Had he known Morwen's full circumstances, he would have been sympathetic to her situation from the beginning. He could only wonder why he had waited so long to learn the truth for himself. It would not be easy, but he would make certain that Eowyn knew the truth also. This feud needed to end. The Ring War was ended; it was time that their personal war also did.

For one thing at least, Eomer was grateful – he did not glimpse any gloating in Lothiriel's eyes. She had earnestly desired this and was only glad of it. He was not sure he could have acted similarly if their positions were reversed.

xxxxx

Eomer could not remember a time in his life when he had spent so little time in the saddle. Consequently, when Amrothos proposed their riding to Edhellond to meet tradesmen there, rather than having them come to Dol Amroth, the suggestion was most welcome to him.

He only had Eothain accompany him as Amrothos was taking a small contingent of guards. Their horses were in a separate barn from the Dol Amroth mounts, so Eomer and his captain had readied their stallions before going to meet up with Amrothos in the courtyard. They arrived first, and as Eomer pulled on his gloves, he noticed Eothain was not doing likewise. While their hands were toughened through use, they both customarily wore gloves and so it surprised him to find his friend without them. "Where are your gloves?" he asked, taking a last tug on his own before turning his gaze fully on Eothain.

"I…do not have them with me," Eothain said evasively, gathering his reins and stepping up into the saddle.

Eomer was not to be put off by the uninformative response. "I can _see_ that. _Why_ do you not have them with you?" he persisted, favoring his captain with a raised eyebrow.

Realizing there was no avoiding an honest answer, Eothain sighed. "I…lent them to Lady Lothiriel, and she has not yet returned them."

Whatever Eomer might have expected him to say this was certainly not it. "Lady Lothiriel? I was not aware you were particularly acquainted with her, and what would she need with your gloves?"

With another sigh, Eothain made the explanation he clearly could not escape. "I…wandered down to the shore after my morning ride yesterday, and found Lady Lothiriel there. She was struggling with Queen Morwen's little dog – he had gotten into the briars. His fur was full of them and she was attempting to lead him back to the Palace, but they were bothering him so much that he was resisting her. I think she would have picked him up but for her bare hands, so I offered to carry him. But when I reached for him, he snapped at me and she was afraid I would be bitten, so she declined my help. I thought the least I could do was to lend my gloves to make her task easier. That is all." The big man shrugged sheepishly, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Certainly this was not a tale Eomer had thought to hear from his friend, but more than that he felt a strange stab of annoyance pierce him. _No…not annoyance._ He searched for the appropriate word, and then was not pleased when it came to him…_envy_! He was envious of Eothain's coming to Lothiriel's rescue rather than him! It was ludicrous…but it was true all the same. He turned toward his horse before Eothain could discern his feelings. Now was not the time to look too closely at his thoughts or desires…especially those he had not realized existed.

Amrothos had ridden up just in time to catch a snatch of the conversation – enough to know it had been about Morlach. With a snort, he exclaimed, "That beast is evil! There is no controlling him. I do not know how Lady Morwen and my sister are able to tolerate him!"

Eomer raised an amused eyebrow at his friend as he rested a fist on his hip. "_I_ had no difficulty getting him to obey. You only say that," he answered mildly, "because _you_ were unable to control him. Not everyone has that problem!"

He snickered as Amrothos scowled at him, demanding, "_Really?_ Are you saying you actually like that dog, then? And just how _do_ you get him to obey you when he listens to no one else?"

Eomer shrugged. "Perhaps he is a dog of the Mark and he answers only to his king?" Eothain burst into laughter at this, causing Eomer to cast him a chastising look and add, "Clearly the dog shows better deference for his king than do some others that shall be nameless!"

"Well, so far as I am concerned, the Mark may keep their nasty little dog! I have no use for him here. I will not be sorry to see him disappear on the boat homeward, regardless of my sister's opinion on the matter," Amrothos avowed. "Evil…" he muttered again under this breath, signaling the guard forward as he led the way out of the courtyard and down the hill.

Eomer and Eothain grinned at one another once more before falling in on either side of the young man, as the guard took their place at the rear. It was a pleasant ride along the coast, with blue skies and a warm breeze, and they covered the distance to Edhellond in good time. When at last they returned toward the palace, Eomer thought it was one of his better days, though he could not definitively identify why he had found it so pleasant. Perhaps it was simply that just at this moment, life and the future did not seem quite so overwhelming and impossible.

Realizing he had inundated Eomer with meetings, Imrahil had scheduled a dance to keep things relaxing for his guests. The prince had intended to hold several such gatherings, but circumstances and the weather had played against them. Now Eomer and his party would be leaving in another week.

Eomer had ventured into town briefly on the morning of the dance, mostly just to stretch his legs, and he had found the shops filled with ladies, apparently buying new finery for the evening's event. Many of them eyed him beguilingly, but if they thought to excite his anticipation for better knowing them, they were mistaken. It was not long before he felt like prey being stalked by hunters, and he beat a hasty retreat back to the palace.

He had been surprised that the branch he had been carving was still in the garden later that same afternoon, and on a whim he had taken it to his room. When he returned there after his outing to town, his eyes fell upon it and he carried it out to the balcony and settled in a chair he placed there. He broke off smaller unusable twigs and scraped away the bark, then carefully broke the long branch into shorter ones that were easy to work on. His first finished effort was a small, rough-cut horse, that stood lopsidedly on his knee only a moment before falling over. Still, the exercise of producing it had helped him recover his skill at carving, and he now felt up to a greater challenge. Not really sure what he wanted to make, he made a few tentative cuts before laying it aside and brushing the cuttings off him.

Rising, he leaned on the railing, staring out over the garden toward the sea, then stretched. So much idleness was strange to him, and even whittling had not kept him occupied for much more than an hour. He wandered out of his room, again strolling through the palace as he had the day he first arrived, and it was not long before he found himself in the solar.

Once there, his restlessness eased, so he sequestered himself, enjoying the view and the solitude. His thoughts drifted back to earlier that morning and his visit to town. The women he encountered there had disturbed him, though it took him awhile before he realized why that was. He needed to find a wife – that much had been firmly established – and dances were the likely place to meet someone, so it seemed odd that he had such trepidation going into it. Only as he considered his unease, did he understand that he did not like these calculated attempts to win favor. It felt too much like choosing the best livestock for purchase. But even more than that, it was too reminiscent of how he had treated Lothiriel when he offered for her hand. What had that been but an unfeeling, calculated attempt to form a treaty between their two houses? Had she felt so appalled to be approached in that way as he felt now? He was not unused to women being attracted to him and flirting – barmaids did it often enough – but this was something far different, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

He had been looking forward to the evening until now, but presently he very much wished he could avoid it. It was unlikely to be possible so he would have to endure as best he could, but those women were apt to be very much disappointed with his response to them tonight. He could dance, though it was not a favorite activity, and luckily he had made it a practice to dance very little so it would not seem unusual to his friends. If these were all the marital prospects he could expect in Dol Amroth, he might as well head for home now. He had seen nothing to entice him to stay.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.


	9. Chapter 9

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 9**

Lothiriel enjoyed dancing and parties, but when she was the hostess often her mind was too much on the details to fully appreciate the actuality. This was such an occasion, as her eyes flitted around the room, making sure all was in order and the guests were enjoying themselves. Food and drink were in place, the musicians were plying their trade, and all she saw appeared to be having a good time. In particular, Faramir was thoroughly pleased with the opportunity to squire his bride on the dance floor, and she smiled fondly at them as they moved past her. Though she was not up to dancing, even Morwen had chosen to attend, and was seated at a small table with a good view of the room.

As the current dance ended, Faramir went to speak with Morwen, and Lothiriel was grateful to him for the effort. Eowyn had, not unexpectedly, moved away to talk with others rather than approach her grandmother with him. Progress had been made in repairing Morwen's relationship with Eomer, but there was still much ground to cover with regard to Eowyn. That could not be Lothiriel's focus just now, however, as she had duties that needed her attention.

Gathered toward one end of the hall was the group of ladies Lothiriel preferred to avoid – preferred but could not do so when acting as her father's hostess. With a soft sigh of reluctance, she wandered in their direction to give greeting, though she intended to keep it as brief as possible and quickly make her escape to more pleasing company. Her approach went unnoticed, and she could overhear the conversation they were not attempting to hide; it set her teeth on edge with anger.

"I suppose the woman is lovely…in a rough sort of way, but I cannot imagine what our dear Steward was thinking to take a _warrior_ as a wife! She will never fit in at the royal court!" Lady Ungaphel sniped, and several of her cronies bobbed their heads in agreement with evident relish.

Not pausing to consider whether it was wise to do so, Lothiriel made her arrival known with a firm clearing of her throat. All eyes turned to focus on her, though she noticed they did not bother to look chagrined; they thought her too meek for them to be cowed by her presence. Well, they would soon see that this kitten had claws! "You would do well to remember that not only is Faramir's 'warrior' bride an honored guest in this house, but she is also close friends with Gondor's king and sister to the King of Rohan. But even if none of that were true, she would still be a beloved cousin and friend to me and my family. She is brave and beautiful, intelligent and kind. None in the house of Dol Amroth takes kindly to those who would speak disparagingly of her, or abuse her behind her back!" With a look around the circle that told each she meant full well what she said, she turned on her heel and stalked away, disgusted with the lot of them. How dare they come here and behave so abominably!

There were some nervous titters among the group as they watched her go, but all fell silent when a moment later the king of Rohan stepped through a nearby door. He cast one cool look at them that spoke volumes of disdain, and then moved away as though he feared contaminating himself with their very nearness. A few of the women, who had been eyeing the young king with aspirations to sit beside him on a throne, now blanched white as they realized any possibility for that had instantly evaporated.

Eomer hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the discussion, but he had gone outside for some air and was returning, unaware of what he would find. He had been on the verge of charging angrily in and taking them to task himself when Lothiriel had put in appearance and done a very fine job of it for him. A grin tweaked at his mouth. Apparently he was not the only one against whom she was well able to hold her own! But he was grateful for her defense of Eowyn. Likely it had been more effective coming from her than from him. He was tempted to go and thank Lothiriel, but was hesitant to do so. She never seemed comfortable when he approached her lately, and it would be a shame to have his gratitude be a burden to her.

Morwen was seated at the side of the room, still speaking with Faramir, but she had witnessed Lothiriel's angry charge down the length of the hall as she left the group at the other end. The Steward noticed a shadow pass over Morwen's features, and turned to see where her gaze was focused. His cousin was agitatedly sipping some wine, clearly upset, but before he could remark on it, Morwen told him quietly, "The crebain of Belfalas are at it again, I see."

He turned to arch an eyebrow at her, amused by the appellation she had given but immediately understanding her reference, thanks to his conversations with Merry. There seemed to be a similar group attached to every royal court; those who liked to gossip and backbite others in order to bolster their own self-esteem. "They are the cause of Lothiriel's unrest?" he questioned.

"Yes. No telling what cutting remarks she has overheard, but I would wager she did not tolerate them."

They were not the only ones to note Lothiriel's unease, and Eowyn had hastened to join her before Faramir could consider acting. Catching Lothiriel's elbow, she drew her aside and asked softly, "What has happened?"

Lothiriel was at a loss how to respond, given the circumstances, but oblivious to the awkwardness she was causing by her questions, Eowyn pressed, "Tell me."

With a sigh, Lothiriel answered, "It is nothing. They are merely jealous, because you accomplished what they never could."

"What do you mean?" Eowyn asked curiously, glancing around in order to determine to whom Lothiriel might be making reference.

"They…the ladies of Gondor long wished to lay claim to either Boromir or Faramir. As sons of the ruling Steward, they were the most desirable of marital prospects, but neither showed any particular interest in any of the eager masses. That you did what they could not rankles them, and they belittle you to soothe their wounded pride."

"Ah," Eowyn said, beginning to understand. She bit her lip and then grinned at Lothiriel. "Pay them no mind, dear friend, for I do not. I have never had any use for jealous harpies. And, as to their words, well they had best keep in mind _who_ will loom large in Gondor's royal court at all future gatherings. I _could_ make things very uncomfortable for them!"

Lothiriel stifled a laugh behind her hand, but then raised her chin defiantly. "As can I here in Dol Amroth. They will find themselves under attack from _two_ warrior princesses!"

While Eowyn was helping to improve Lothiriel's mood, Eomer was not so fortunate. One of the young ladies who had been eagerly eyeing him now managed to corner him, blithely oblivious to his ill-humor and the fact that she was being more of a nuisance than an enticement.

"My lord Eomer!" she exclaimed as she sidled up to him, all smiles and flirtatious fluttering. "I am so pleased you could be with us tonight. It is such a great honor to meet such a renowned person. Why, my brothers have spoken so highly of you that I think surely you must be the bravest man in all the land!" She giggled at her own remarks, edging a step closer to him.

Maintaining his reserve, he replied benignly, "I hardly think that is likely. All warriors are brave – they must be to face the dangers of battle. I am nothing special in that regard."

"Oh no, my lord King! You are too modest!" she gushed in return. Now she laid a small white hand on his arm as she assured him of her sincerity and conviction in the matter, gazing adoringly up at him. Her hand gave a tiny squeeze and she added, "Oh, you are so strong! Why, the orcs must have fled in terror just at the sight of your coming after them!"

This was getting to be more than Eomer could stomach, but he saw no easy way to politely escape. While his mind sought an excuse, Lothiriel had returned to her hostessing duties and had noticed his predicament. Lady Pethraen was well known, having just come of age as the war ended. Since that time, she had been chasing every handsome, eligible male to be found. Her beauty drew their attention initially, but most soon turned tail and ran when she became too cloying for them to tolerate. Even Amrothos had briefly endured her attentions.

"Eomer-King? I hope you will pardon my intrusion," Lothiriel said, approaching the couple and earning a tiny scowl from Pethraen. "Queen Morwen has requested to speak with you and I said I would bring you word. Shall you attend her?

"Of course," Eomer readily acknowledged, thankful for a reason to disengage from the young lady. While he was not expecting such a summons, he was not about to argue with providence. "I hope you will excuse me," he said to Pethraen with a slight bow, and then moved quickly away before she could object, or worse, offer to accompany him.

Lothiriel smiled pleasantly at Pethraen also, before continuing on her circuit of the hall. She knew the girl was irritated with her, but she could hardly make Eomer endure that for the remainder of the night, and Pethraen was tenacious. Once having gotten her hooks in, she was hard to shake. She had followed Amrothos around all night at one dance. Come to think of it, she would have to ask him how he had finally managed to elude the girl, and keep her from returning.

Morwen raised a surprised eyebrow when her grandson approached. Despite the eased tension, she had not expected him to spend a great deal of time with her, though she had noticed his previous company was not to his taste.

"You wished to speak with me, my lady?" he asked, dropping into a nearby chair.

"Did I?" Morwen replied, looking even more surprised.

"That is what Lothiriel said just now – that she was sent to fetch me on your behalf," Eomer explained, slightly puzzled by Morwen's response.

Morwen chuckled softly. "Indeed? Good for her! She is an excellent hostess!"

For a moment, Eomer did not grasp her meaning, and then realization flooded through him – Lothiriel had come to his rescue. "So, you did not request my presence, I take it?"

"No, dear boy, but I am glad to have it all the same. I would enjoy a short visit with you, if you are so inclined. No, Lothiriel merely saw that you had been unhappily cornered by the young lady and wanted to give you an opportunity to escape, if that was in fact your desire. I suspect she was correct."

"Very much so!" Eomer avowed. "The girl is lovely, there is no denying, but her senseless babbling was driving me mad! I know there are noblewomen who can speak sensibly; why is it that I seem to attract those who cannot?"

"Because you are a handsome man, a famous warrior and a king as well. Those virtues will attract most women – sensible or otherwise, though there is a great deal of 'otherwise' in every court," Morwen explained. "Do not think too harshly of the girl. She is very young, and eager to make a good marriage match. She does not see that her manner is not conducive to achieving it. Eventually, she will either calm down or there will be a man silly enough to take her for her beauty and not worry about the rest."

"Well, until she does, I shall sit here with you. Most seem too in awe of you to approach," he teased, and Morwen chuckled again.

"One has to work hard to achieve that sort of distance, but it does have the advantage of keeping the most annoying ones away," she explained. "Were it appropriate to bring Morlach to such events, I could keep all of the unwanted adulators at bay. He is most efficient at prompting them to cut short their accolades and make a hasty exit!"

Eomer grinned. "I always wondered why you were so attached to him. Now it is clear – he is a tool!"

His grandmother's expression sobered slightly and she nodded, but corrected, "And a dear friend. For all the difficulty that he can be, we are devoted to one another. I would not have you think otherwise."

He met her gaze and then remarked, "Which also explains why Lothiriel has become so fond of him. She has learned to see what you see in him."

His gaze flicked around the room, seeking the subject of their conversation, and Morwen eyes also turned toward the young woman. "Likely you are right in that."

After rescuing Eomer, Lothiriel had retreated to the side for another glass of wine. Already she was tired, and would be very glad when the evening came to an end. There was far too much drama going on at tonight's gathering. A voice close to her left ear almost made her drop the wine glass. "Nicely done, Sister!" Amrothos told her with a laugh, noting how she jumped at his sudden appearance.

"I have _told_ you not to do that!" Lothiriel chastised, giving him her best glare, though he was unfazed by it.

"True, but you know I never listen to people telling me what to do," he calmly replied, snaring her wine glass and taking a swallow from it.

"Yes, but I thought you might show greater deference when the person in question was your _beloved_ sister!" she hissed, as she snatched her wine glass away from him and gave him a reproving glare. Unfortunately, she was not nearly so annoyed as she was trying to appear, and he well knew it.

"You are indeed _beloved_," he agreed, "but, no, that is not sufficient to make me listen to you telling me something that I do not wish to hear!" He grinned disarmingly at her and she couldn't help but laugh and shake her head in defeat.

"At any rate, I only came to applaud your handling of Lady Pethraen and her siege of Eomer. After your masterful extrication of him from her clutches, he is sure to propose marriage now if he has not already!" he teased.

She nearly choked on the wine she was sipping, wondering if he knew something. Her face pinked and she looked away from her brother for a moment before telling him firmly, "An act of kindness is hardly grounds for marriage, Amrothos. Where did you get such a silly notion?" She tried to act incredulous, but she had the horrible suspicion that he knew or was guessing that there might be more, or at least that there could be.

Handing him the wine glass, she gave him a shove. "Go. Annoy someone else. I have too much to do tonight to be dealing with the likes of you. And try to keep out of trouble!" She moved quickly away before he could pursue their previous conversation any further. She had not intended her coming to Eomer's aid as anything other than being a good hostess. Hopefully Eomer would not similarly misconstrue it as more. And she would need to be more careful lest her other family members' thoughts wander in the same direction as Amrothos' had strayed.

Lothiriel did not notice Amrothos eyeing her speculatively as she floated around the room overseeing details. He had forgotten about her unrest at Minas Tirith a few months ago as it had appeared to be connected to Morwen's indisposition at the time. Now he was not so sure that was true. The mere mention of Eomer in connection with marriage had greatly unsettled his sister; he was sure of it, despite all her efforts to conceal it. Now that he thought on it, the two of them had seemed rather friendly the previous year, but ever since Eowyn's wedding they had kept a polite distance from each other most of the time.

He knew his sister well, but mostly he knew how good she was at hiding her thoughts behind an inscrutable mask. That was one lesson she had easily learned from Aunt Ivriniel. But he also had seen the flash of pain in Lothiriel's eyes, for just an instant, along with the alarm that she was discovered. He could not think Eomer had behaved improperly toward his sister, and her actions did not suggest that was the case, but something had happened between them, and it had hurt Lothiriel. It was still hurting Lothiriel; of that he was certain. Finishing the wine in the glass, he set it on a nearby table, vowing to himself to keep a closer eye on the situation, and act if necessary.

The evening slowly wore down to its conclusion, and several were not sorry to see it end. Morwen had left the gathering more than an hour earlier, and Lothiriel gave her final instructions to the servants before wearily taking herself off to bed. Eomer was to leave in a week's time and likely there was not time for another dance. At least she could be grateful for that.

xxxxx

Eomer had a restless night. He tossed and turned some time before going to sit on the balcony in the moonlight. At first he was not sure what was at the root of his turmoil, but when his thoughts persistently kept returning to Lothiriel, he could no longer pretend she had nothing to do with it.

Soon he would be on the road home, and it felt very wrong to be leaving here with matters unsettled between them. He had made peace with Morwen; he very much wanted to make peace with Lothiriel also. _Peace._ No, that wasn't entirely accurate, though it was part of it. More and more he was beginning to see that his hasty proposal had preceded his actually developing feelings for her. Only now did he truly recognize all the fine qualities others had been telling him she possessed, but more than that he knew that he was truly attracted to her as he had not been before. The very great question was whether or not he was too late, whether or not too much damage had been done for her to even consider him.

With a heavy sigh, he returned to his bed, but sleep was slow to take him. The next morning, the household took its time to get moving after the previous night's festivities, and Eomer was up before anyone else was about. The servants kept a basket of fruit in his room, so he snared an apple to munch on as he wandered out to the garden. It had become one of his refuges for solitary reverie, and he was rarely disturbed there.

Eomer had been lost in his ruminations for some time when a familiar voice brought him jarringly back to the present. "Does something trouble you, dear boy?" Morwen inquired, pausing where she stood to see if he would invite her company.

He blinked several times and then straightened, letting out a heavy sigh. "I…there is just a great deal on my mind lately," he answered laconically.

She took a few steps nearer, still judging her welcome, and asked, "Is it something of which you would speak? Perhaps a fresh perspective would help you to reason more clearly."

He considered the offer for a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps." With a gesture, he indicated she should join him, and she settled onto the bench at his side. Even so, once she was seated, he did not quite know how to begin such a conversation, and they tarried in silence.

At length, Morwen prompted, "Does this concern the difficulties you face in restoring the Mark?"

Eomer sighed again. "No, not particularly…well, I suppose in a roundabout manner it does." He frowned, then took a stab at better explaining himself. "I…the more I consider Lothiriel, and the more that I am around her, the more I see…" He stopped, scowling again.

"See that you gave her too little credit initially, but that on closer study find she is much more than you originally deemed?" Morwen suggested.

His head jerked back in surprise as he gave his grandmother a sharp look. Still, though perhaps not the words he would have chosen, her explanation was essentially correct. With a sigh, he looked away and nodded.

After several minutes of silence between them, he asked quietly, not looking at her while he spoke, "Has she said anything to you? About me? I get the impression…well, I do not think she enjoys my company."

"No, but that is to be expected," Morwen observed, and he could not resist turning to meet her gaze. A raised eyebrow prompted her to continue, and she complied. "She is wary of you because she cannot be sure what you will do next. While she was able to refuse you, and have you accept that without raising a fuss, she is not entirely sure that this matter will not still be mentioned to her father, and that pressure will be brought to bear to change her mind. She does not know you well enough to feel certain where the situation stands."

"I cannot believe Imrahil would force her to act against her own inclinations!" Eomer avowed.

"No," Morwen said, raising a calming hand, "but you must understand her position. The daughter of a prince refusing a marriage offer from a king who is both friend and ally to her family, her own king and her country is…_unusual_. If it were generally known that she had done so, the sympathy would be all on your side. And she would be made to feel the great weight of her folly in rejecting so great an honor. Even if neither Imrahil nor Elessar pressed her to act differently, the people of Gondor would likely express…displeasure with her behavior. Your words and actions can have powerful repercussions upon her happiness and well-being."

"She is to be commended for her sense, not ridiculed! I would not allow that to happen!" Eomer replied vehemently. He dropped his face into his hands and rubbed it tiredly. This all seemed to get more and more complicated with every passing minute.

"I did not think that you would," Morwen reassured with a gentle smile, "but I wanted you to see this matter through Gondor's eyes. It is not what you are used to in the Mark." She allowed him to consider this a moment, then questioned, "May I ask you something – without meaning to pry?"

He nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare unseeingly out over the garden. "What are your feelings for Lothiriel now? When she refused you, Lothiriel indicated that you 'did not love her', so I would assume you gave her that impression, and likely it was an accurate one. Has the situation altered?"

After several long moments, Eomer slowly nodded. "I thought…I thought I was doing the right thing in quickly resolving the issue of a wife by marriage to a woman that I found agreeable, even if I did not love her. It was fortunate for me that she was thinking more rationally than I was. But as I have continued to be in her company, and had other confrontations with her that bettered my opinion of her, I have come to realize there is something more." He did not elaborate; his grandmother did not need to know of his admiring her figure, or her bared legs that day on the beach. Morwen certainly did not need to know how many times he had wanted to take the girl in his arms and kiss her senseless. He had tried convincing himself it was merely loneliness fueling such desires, but with each hour that passed in Lothiriel's company, he knew ever more assuredly that it was a much deeper, steadfast emotion spurring his ardor. Somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with her, but considering their past dealings it seemed unlikely he could pursue her now.

Quietly, Morwen observed, "Though Lothiriel has never specifically spoken of what feelings she may or may not have for you, I suspect they are much stronger than she would have anyone know. Sometimes the things people leave unspoken _say_ far more than words ever could."

Eomer's eyebrows twitched together as he turned to eye his grandmother, scarcely believing she was offering words of hope. "You think there might still be…a chance?" he questioned.

"It will not be easy, of course, but yes I do think there is a possibility that the two of you might be able to overcome that regrettable proposal. However, I can only mention to you that it might be so – you will have to figure out how to accomplish it," she warned. Heaving herself to her feet, she smiled down at her grandson and added, "Keep in mind that more than anything else, Lothiriel was hurt that you would approach her with so little feeling in your offer. And she will continue to be guarded around you so long as she fears that you may hurt her again. But, I wish you well. Do not wait too long to set things right. This is painful for the both of you, I am sure."

With that final bit of advice, Morwen shuffled off down the path, leaving Eomer to ponder what he had learned. He did not have much time to do so, for Erchirion put in appearance soon after and drew him in for break of fast. It appeared his friends thought they had been neglecting him, for over the meal it was decided that the long-discussed boat ride would take place. They left as soon as the meal was ended, spending the morning scudding over the waves and skimming past lushly tropical islands.

Eomer had taken up position on the bow of the boat, enjoying the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. Looking a bit more nervous about the whole thing, Eowyn was finally enticed by Faramir to join her brother there and the three stood in silent comraderie.

"How do you like it?" Erchirion inquired, coming to join them once he was free to do so. The wind had calmed and for the moment they were moving more slowly. Amrothos was keeping watch on the sails in case a sudden gust should catch them unprepared.

"It is exhiliarating," Eomer acknowledged. "I have never been much interested in the water except to do a bit of fishing now and then." He grinned at his friend. "However, I doubt I will ever prove the enthusiast that you are! I find the companionship of a horse more enticing!"

Erchirion laughed with him, but shrugged. "You do make a valid point, but I still prefer this to all other pursuits, even horses. Perhaps you can persuade Amrothos to your way of thinking."

"Not likely," his brother called from where he stood, keeping an eye on things but listening to the conversation. "Horses are fine, but this… I cannot explain it, but this touches something within me as nothing else does. Maybe it is just that the sea is in our blood, being born of sea kings along the shore."

"Well, I must side with Eomer," Eowyn interjected. "Having water on all sides makes me a little nervous. I prefer solid ground and a sturdy horse to carry me."

All eyes turned automatically to Faramir for his opinion, but he laughed and shook his head. "No, do not draw me into the debate for I will not be the tiebreaking vote for you! When we return, possibly you can convince Lothiriel to give her opinion, though I suspect my cousin is too wise to step into that trap."

Everyone laughed at the diplomatic response, and the argument was dropped since neither side felt the need to prove the other one wrong. "Why did Lothiriel not accompany us?" Eomer asked, turning back to the railing. Erchirion had relieved Amrothos on the lines and he was now coming forward to join them. "I thought I understood that she enjoyed sailing also."

Amrothos' eyes narrowed at the question and he studied the back of Eomer's head for a moment before replying, "I do not know. Maybe she had other things that needed doing, and she can sail most any time she wishes. Erchirion is not difficult to entice into an outing, as you may have noticed!" He still hadn't worked out what was happening between his sister and the king, but either Eomer was unaware of it or unwilling to discuss it. Either way, he very much suspected Lothiriel had foregone the outing so as to avoid the close quarters with Eomer.

Given his own preference, Erchirion would have stayed on the water all day, but realizing his guests were not likely to find that so pleasant as he did, they turned for home in time to arrive for a late dinner. The seemingly toil-free outing, at least for those not doing the actual work of sailing, left the three guests a bit sleepy, so after the meal they went to their rooms to enjoy a rare nap.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.


	10. Chapter 10

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 10**

Eomer did not sleep long before he awoke refreshed and it seemed pointless to lie abed longer. As he idly pondered how to occupy his afternoon, his eyes fell on the unwhittled wood he had saved. Once again he took a chair out to the balcony and settled there to enjoy the view while he worked at his carving. Somehow the balmy coastal weather left him feeling lazy, so it was much easier to be content in such a sedentary activity.

He had been working for some time before Eomer realized what his hands had unconsciously been shaping in the wood – a love spoon(8). It was traditional for men in the Mark to carve one to give to the woman they wished to marry; her acceptance of it amounted to a betrothal. He cradled the small object in his large hands, lost in thought. If he were to give such a token, there was only one lady he would consider as the recipient. Only, now, it was unlikely she would accept it. Or would she? His grandmother did not think all was lost. Perhaps such a token would prove his sincerity and win her forgiveness, especially if Morwen had taught her of this particular Rohirric tradition.

He turned it over and over in his hands as he wandered back into the room. He slowly ran a finger over the various emblems he had carved: a heart, of course, representing his love; a twisted stem to show togetherness and the joining of their lives; a horseshoe to represent good luck and happiness; and a lock symbolizing security, indicating his vow to protect her and their family.

All were traditional and frequently seen on such spoons, but he had to admit that they also were an accurate reflection of what he was beginning to realize that he felt for Lothiriel. Why was it so much easier to carve his pledge in wood than to speak the words directly to her? He did not know the answer to that, but the emblems were useless without the words.

Feeling restless, he lifted his eyes to the window. It was a bright, sunny day – fairly typical of summer in Dol Amroth, he had come to know. There always seemed to be a brisk wind in off the water, which usually kept it from being too hot. He moved out onto the balcony again, for a moment, before securely tucking the spoon into his boot and heading to the door. No time like the present. Lothiriel had been keeping her distance during the course of his visit, but with any luck he could persuade her to hear him out.

The time for hesitation was past. For all he had tried to deny to himself the feelings for Lothiriel that had flowered within him, they would not be repressed. More and more his thoughts turned to her, especially now that he was in Dol Amroth, and in her home. His conversations with Morwen had also done much toward helping him understand things that he had never before fully appreciated. The issue now was whether or not his grandmother was correct about the possibility of Lothiriel accepting him, despite her earlier refusal. He would return home soon, and ere his departure he wanted this matter settled. He would not waste more time thinking of a woman who did not want him.

It was just his luck that Lothiriel was not in the house, and no one seemed to know where she was to be found at present. He could not bring himself to return to his room, nor did he want to seek the company of anyone else who might discern his unrest and question him on it. Deciding a walk was in order, he made for the door.

Outside, his guard came to attention, but Eomer waved him away. Perhaps it was unwise to do so, and the man was scowling at him with disapproval though he dared not speak of it, but the king was not in the mood for company – well, only certain company, anyway. He struck off down the long drive of the palace and exited onto a side road that crossed it just outside the gates. Without thinking, he turned north along a road that paralleled the coast, and he walked some distance in earnest before his pace finally slowed to something more relaxed.

Just before he reached a copse of trees, he halted to consider where he was going. Glancing around, he saw little but the trees ahead with the road leading into them or back toward the palace, and an open field to his right. On his left, however, he glimpsed an overgrown path.

The dirt track led off the main road in the direction of the shore, and Eomer idly changed course to follow and see where it went. It meandered through scrub brush quite a way, but then ended at the top of a hillside that overlooked the beach. A woman was strolling along, seemingly lost in thought, and his eyes followed her a moment before realizing that it was Lothiriel. He was unsure why she was on this public stretch of beach rather than her family's private one, but any doubts he might have that it was her were wiped away when Morlach dashed into view. The little dog had spotted gulls on the sand some distance ahead and now was racing madly toward them, barking for all he was worth. It was clear that Lothiriel was attempting to call him back, though her voice was carried away on the wind and Eomer could not hear it from where he stood.

A grin tweaked at his mouth. He had to wonder if Lothiriel truly liked Morwen's wayward pet, or merely tolerated the animal as a courtesy to her friend. Still, if she did not like Morlach, he would have expected Lothiriel not to go out of her way to spend time with the dog, but she seemed to do so with considerable regularity.

He stood watching them a few minutes more until his eyes lowered to scan the hillside. It did not take long for him to discern a path down to the shore, and he hastened to make his descent.

By the time he had worked his way down the rough path onto the beach, Lothiriel had moved farther down the shore in her pursuit of Morlach, who still was gleefully ignoring her summons. Her attention was so focused on the dog that she did not notice Eomer's approach from behind her, and he smiled in amusement as she threw Morlach's leash in the dog's direction with frustration over his disobedience. "Morlach!" she yelled in annoyance, giving her foot a stamp.

"Perhaps I might be of assistance," he offered as he drew near, causing her to jump appreciably and whirl to face him. He chuckled and then said, "My apologies – I did not intend to startle you."

For several moments she simply stared at him, but then he gestured toward the frolicking terrier. "Shall I?"

At length, she gave a shrug and nodded. Whatever her personal disagreements with this man, there was no disputing that he seemed to be the one person that Morlach never failed to obey. In a few quick strides he was past her, and finally let out a bellowed, "Morlach! Come!"

Even with the wind, it was clear the dog had heard and recognized that voice. The terrier broke off his gambols and dropped to the sand, staring cautiously at Eomer. "I said _Come_!" Eomer reiterated. He had heard Morwen use the command with the dog and knew that it was understood.

Slowly Morlach rose and edged toward Eomer, his tail and head lowered submissively. Once he was in reach, Eomer scooped him up in one hand and returned to where Lothiriel waited, shaking her head in astonishment. No matter how many times she witnessed it, this never failed to amaze her. She took the trembling creature from the king, and attached the leash she had retrieved before setting the dog down again.

Lothiriel could only hope that now Eomer would continue on his way, leaving her in peace, but instead he fell in to walk beside her as she turned back toward the palace. For a time, they strolled in silence that could not truly be called companionable. Eomer's thoughts were roiling, seeking for the words to begin the needed conversation. Lothiriel's mind had no greater calm to it as she mentally willed him to leave her, all the while fighting the inclination to notice how attractive he looked in his windblown state. It seemed every time she glimpsed him, she wanted to drink him in. She could not allow herself such weakness. To do so would only mean further heartache.

"It would seem that we have a problem," he announced abruptly, watching from the corner of his eye for her reaction.

Already she regretted that she had been so lax as to enable him to catch her alone; the pursuit of conversation only made matters worse. Still, proper manners required her to be polite until she could effect an escape. "What problem is that, my lord? I am aware of none." She kept her eyes averted as she spoke, not wishing him to see her emotions brimming in them.

"When I offered for your hand in marriage, I gave you to understand that I was seeking a marriage of convenience, acknowledging a lack of love between us. I find now, however, that I misrepresented the facts."

Her heart skipped a beat, wondering if he had learned of her affections for him and fearful that she had been ineffective in keeping her feelings concealed. Despite her inner turmoil, however, she managed to respond with only the tiniest quaver in her tone. "I do not take your meaning, my lord. What facts were in error?"

He did not answer immediately, making her tense with anxiety over what he would say, but at length he cleared his throat and said firmly, "I indicated, even believed at that time, that I felt nothing more than friendship for you, and I offered based on my belief that you would be an appropriate queen for the Mark. Now I find…I find that I still very much desire you – as our queen, yes, but more importantly as a woman that I hope to have for my wife. Do you think that perhaps in time you might come to have feelings for me, feelings such that would allow you to rethink your refusal of me?"

"And why should I believe that your feelings for me have changed?" she questioned, not quite able to accept this was real – needing further confirmation. "Perhaps you have just resolved to tell me so in order to win my acceptance." Without noticing, they both had come to a halt, and she turned away, reluctant to look at him. If she saw any guilt in his face it would be her undoing.

"Eorlingas do not lie, Lothiriel – at least this one does not. I did not lie and pretend affections that I did not feel when first I asked for your hand, and neither do I pretend now to feel that which I do not. Tell me that you do not return my feelings, or that you do not wish to be my wife and queen, but do not doubt the truth of my words," he answered firmly.

There was the smallest note of pleading in his voice that caused her to glance at him against her will. The fire she saw burning in his eyes confirmed what he had spoken, and her throat constricted with emotion at the sight of it. He did speak truly! If she believed nothing else, she believed that. Now it only fell to her to respond in some manner. She was too overcome for speech, and stooped quickly, pretending to check on Morlach while swallowing hard to calm herself and recover her voice.

When she gave no response, though, Eomer sighed and told her, "I see by your silence that it was indeed a fool's errand for me to approach you after once being rejected. I…thank you for your time and apologize for any distress I may have given you."

His jaw tightened with regret as he turned away, but before he had taken three steps, her voice called to him, low and warm, "Eomer." Though she spoke only the single word, it stopped him in his tracks and held him there, but he could not bring himself to look at her.

"Eomer," she said again, and he almost jumped when the sound came from right at his elbow, and a soft hand was placed on his arm, urging him to turn.

At first, he merely glanced toward her from the corner of his eye, but the expression she wore gave him such hope, he wheeled around to face her, his countenance questioning as he asked earnestly, "May we begin again?"

She smiled more broadly, but then her eyes narrowed speculatively. "Perhaps – if you are able to meet my conditions," she answered, and he blinked in surprise.

"And what might those be?" he asked with caution, unconsciously taking a defensive step away from her.

She shrugged slightly and replied, "Only that you permit me to call you by name once more, and that you more freely share those lovely smiles of yours, for they are most endearing."

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and he could not suppress the rush of relief that flooded him, nor the laugh that burst forth. "Quite the task master you are, I see, but I believe I am equal to the challenge," he answered, stepping in so close that it caused her breath to hitch. "However, in bowing to _your_ demands, I reserve the right to make my own in return."

"Which are?" she inquired breathlessly, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than his lips hovering so tantalizingly above her.

"That you tell me amusing tales at every opportunity, in order to tease out those smiles you are so fond of witnessing, and that you favor your betrothed with frequent kisses to keep him in a smiling mood," he said softly, leaning toward her ear, but still refraining from actually touching her.

"But, Eomer, we are not betrothed," she murmured distractedly, earning her one of those smiles she relished.

"Not yet, my love, but _very_ soon," he whispered, bringing his lips down on hers as he drew her into his arms. Her eager response left him in no doubt of her feelings in the matter, and something inside him loosened as a lifelong tenseness oozed out of him. Finally, after all these many years, he had found his home.

When the kiss ended, neither was inclined to leave the embrace, and they stood silently enjoying their newfound bliss. As Eomer held her, he reflected that she was so very young and he felt so very old, in a great many ways. But she also had wisdom and ability beyond her years, and when he was with her he felt younger, more carefree and full of hope than at any other time. Perhaps that was why – or at least partly – he had not been able to dismiss her so lightly as he had tried. At that thought, he smiled, and then leaned down to claim another kiss.

Morlach had grown impatient with standing still while the humans talked, and he now nudged inquisitively at Lothiriel's leg. With a laugh, she looked down at the little dog and remarked, "Someone is feeling left out! Shall we walk?"

Eomer nodded agreeingly, wrapping an arm about her shoulders as they continued their trek back toward the palace. This time, comfortable silence enveloped them, but after several long minutes, Lothiriel reticently questioned, "May I ask you something?"

He chuckled, and gave her a wide grin along with a pointed look. "You have always spoken your mind to me quite freely before this. Why do you hesitate now?" At his response, she blushed and averted her eyes, but his voice softened as he assured her, "You may ask whatever you wish, beloved."

The endearment had the desired effect, and she smiled warmly up at him, making no effort to disguise the pleasure it gave her. After a moment, her expression sobered and she continued her previous thought. "Have…it seems that you have made peace with Lady Morwen. Is it so?"

He bowed his head thoughtfully and then nodded. "Yes. You were right from the very beginning. Knowing the full truth made a great deal of difference. And I will make sure that Eowyn knows it also. I cannot promise that it will matter in their relationship, but she needs to understand."

"I am glad," she told him earnestly. "I think now that Morwen's grief has eased over the past, she regrets being separated from you, especially since you and Eowyn are all the family that are left to her. I hope Eowyn can also forgive her the choices she made."

He pulled her close into his embrace and kissed her hair. "Eowyn is very proud, but she is also fair. In time I think she will forgive. I only hope she does not wait so long that Morwen is gone before they can reconcile. Eowyn needs this conflict to be ended as much as Morwen does."

They had begun walking again before she ventured more. "Eomer…are you…certain about this, about me? When you approached me before you were clearly indifferent to–"

He cut her off with a kiss, and only after he felt her relax into his embrace did he slowly end it. Now he saw that her earlier question had been a retreat from what she truly wanted to ask, but had feared to do so. Locking gazes with her he avowed, "I _am_ certain. I was tired and distracted before, and I judged you in haste – something I have a tendency to do, as you noted!" He chuckled, and she grinned in response before he continued, "You opened my eyes to many truths, not the least of which were my feelings for you. This may well be the most right and certain thing I have ever done in the course of my life. Never doubt that. Never!" His arms tightened around her, and she gladly took her place in them.

Between conversation and kisses, their progress along the beach took longer than it ordinarily would have, though neither particularly minded the delay. As they left the beach, however, both automatically stepped a little apart from one another. It was not impossible that they had been seen embracing on the shore, but until Eomer spoke to Imrahil they chose to conduct themselves appropriately so as to avoid curious questions.

Even so, once Morlach had been returned to the kennels and they entered the palace, their first encounter was with Faramir. As greetings were exchanged, the Steward's eyes suddenly narrowed as his gaze flicked between them, followed by a brief smile tweaking his mouth. Despite any suspicions, however, he made no comment and the three parted ways soon after.

They had returned just in time to wash for supper, and as he did Eomer suddenly realized he had forgotten to give Lothiriel the love spoon. It hadn't been needed to prove his sincerity, but as he drew it from his boot he determined to give it anyway. Growing up, he had always thought the practice somewhat silly, but now that he had found love it did not seem so. He ran a finger thoughtfully over the emblems, musing that perhaps men did this to say what they could never seem to find the words to speak. He certainly felt inadequate to vowing his love for a woman, but his handiwork seemed sufficiently eloquent to make up for any lack on his part. He smiled again and slipped the token back into his boot. He would have to look for an appropriate moment to present it. It was not something to be shoved hastily into a woman's hand.

Eomer had not been oblivious to the expression on Faramir's face, and correctly interpreted it as an indication that the Steward suspected matters had been resolved between Eomer and Lothiriel. But Eomer did not especially like being predictable, so at supper he paid no particular attention to Lothiriel, nor did he request an audience with Imrahil as would be expected. His eyes had locked once, briefly, with Lothiriel's, and a glint there persuaded him she had detected what he was doing and was greatly amused by it. But as he sensed no objection or censure on her part, he continued on his course, pretending not to notice Faramir's growing confusion.

It had become a familiar pattern in the evenings to adjourn to the library for conversation and music, with Lothiriel splitting her time between performing and instructing Eowyn. Again, Eomer conversed with various friends, but made no advances that singled out Imrahil for a private discussion, and by the end of the evening he had the satisfaction of noting Faramir apparently deciding he had been mistaken earlier.

However, Eomer's habit of rising early had given him plenty of opportunity to learn the usual patterns of the household. Though Imrahil sometimes came late to the morning table, it was generally due to his conducting business first and thus being delayed, rather than his being slow to waken. Knowing that, Eomer did not hesitate to knock at his door quite early, and was admitted to find a very surprised friend.

"Eomer! To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Imrahil asked, leaning back in his chair. Before Eomer could respond, he gave a wave of his hand and added apologetically, "Please excuse my attire. I tend to dress in fits and starts as I write out my correspondence of a morning. You caught me before I had finished the process."

The king grinned, reassuring him, "Not at all – I know I am calling on you well before the official start of your day, but I had hoped for a few moments of your time." He glanced significantly at the waiting manservant, indicating his wish for a private conversation, and Imrahil dismissed the man, asking that he return in a quarter of an hour.

"So, what is this about, my friend?" Imrahil asked, gesturing to a nearby chair. "Not that I am displeased. We have had little time to talk while you have been here, and you will be leaving us soon. I hope you have enjoyed your stay."

"Very much so, especially now," Eomer acknowledged, causing the Prince's eyebrow to quirk questioningly. "I…" Eomer had taken a seat, but now stood and paced to the window before continuing. After a moment, he turned with determination. "I would ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. She has accepted my offer." A bit blunt, but there seemed little point in beating around the bush.

"Indeed…" Imrahil said, clearly stunned. "I…was not aware the two of you were romantically inclined toward one another. In fact, I thought I detected a bit of…coolness in your manners when the two of you were together. Is there more that I should know?"

Eomer drew a deep breath and slowly let it out, then nodded. "Likely so. Just before Eowyn's wedding," he confessed, "I proposed to Lothiriel, but at the time I was only interested in a marriage of alliance and had no particular feelings for her. She refused me." Imrahil's eyebrows shot into his hairline, but Eomer raised a hand to stop him when he would have commented. "Hear me out, then you may speak." Crossing his hands behind him, he continued, "Lothiriel was right to act as she did, for I was not thinking rationally, and was not ready for marriage. But since that time, I have come to see things more clearly, and to value Lothiriel for all the wonderful things that she is. I hurt her with my haste, but I swear to you I will strive never to do so again."

Imrahil sat lost in thought, digesting this information in shocked silence. At length, he murmured, "Well! Well, if my daughter is satisfied with your offer, then I cannot oppose it. I should be delighted to count you as a son." He smiled warmly and rose to embrace the younger man. "Happy day, indeed, when the house of Eorl rode into view at dawn!"

The two grinned at one another, but then Eomer requested, "I would ask you not to speak of this just yet. There is one more thing I wish to do before it is announced. I believe you will know when the time is right."

"Very well, my friend, but do not wait too long. All will wish to rejoice in this excellent news!" his friend chuckled.

A knock at the door signaled the return of the servant, and the two men walked toward it together. "I will see you at break of fast, then," Eomer told him, stepping into the hall as the servant entered.

"At breakfast," Imrahil acknowledged, still beaming, and watching for several seconds as Eomer departed down the hallway.

The next step in Eomer's plan took a little more effort. He hovered near the breakfast chamber door, watching for Lothiriel's arrival. She always sat in the same chair, and so he had claimed the spot to the right of it by laying his riding gloves on the table. No one seemed to think it unusual, just as he had anticipated.

Once Lothiriel, Faramir, Eowyn, Erchirion and Morwen arrived, they all began to seat themselves, not waiting for the others. Often Amrothos trickled in during the middle of the meal and they could never be sure when Imrahil would put in appearance. Each dished food onto their plates as queries were exchanged about how the others had slept and what were their plans for the day. When Lothiriel looked down, however, she noticed that she had no eating utensils at her place – very odd, for the servants were usually quite diligent. She glanced about, not wanting to draw notice to the problem, but it was evident everyone had them except her. She lifted her napkin as she considered what to do, but in doing so she glimpsed something under it – a small, intricately carved wooden spoon lay there, and she took it into her hand to examine more closely.

A slow smile lit her face as she traced a forefinger over the designs on it, her food utterly forgotten. Morwen had mentioned these, even shown her the one that Thengel had given prior to their betrothal, but Lothiriel had never thought to receive one herself. She pressed her lips tightly together, but even that gesture would not stay the tiny tear that trickled from her eye. She brushed it away, finally raising her gaze from the spoon, only to discover the entire table staring at her, as were her father and Amrothos who had arrived in the doorway. The giddy grins they all wore convinced her they, too, understood the significance of this object.

She turned to smile lovingly at the man beside her, then impulsively leaned and kissed his cheek, earning her a winning smile from him. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, I accept your token and your offer, my love."

Her action broke the spell and everyone began to talk excitedly all at once, no one really hearing what anyone else was saying. Through it all Morwen sat serenely, smiling with approval at the couple seated across from her. At length, Eomer asked her, "Is this what you were suggesting when you recommended I choose wisely?"

She laughed lightly at the question. "Not specifically, no, but I cannot say that I think you mistook my meaning. Almost from the first, I believed you would make a fine couple, perfectly complementing one another. I just was not certain _you_ would reach that same conclusion."

Eomer slipped an arm about Lothiriel's shoulders, and she leaned into him despite the awkwardness while seated. "The truth of it is, despite my protestations to the contrary, I have met no one else who I would even have considered for a moment. Perhaps I offered in advance of my developing affection, but I think some part of me knew that it could only be Lothiriel."

Morwen gave a nod of approbation at his words while Lothiriel fought to suppress more tears of joy. Neither noticed that Eowyn had become aware of the cordial exchange taking place, and was staring at her brother with undisguised astonishment. Lothiriel's family took Eowyn's expression to be a reflection of her surprise at Eomer's way of announcing the betrothal, but Faramir surmised differently. He had felt Eowyn tense beside him and go silent; following her gaze that twitched between Eomer and Lady Morwen, he could easily determine her thoughts. To her credit, however, she kept silent and did not disrupt the happy celebration that had formed over the meal.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.

ch 10: (8)Based on Welsh love spoons. Google it if you've never seen one.


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: Almost to the end of this tale. This is a longer chapter and then there is a very short epilogue coming on Sunday__. Hope you all have a wonderful and prosperous new year!_**

**Spoils of War**

**Chapter 11**

Only later, when Eomer returned to his room alone, did Eowyn follow and approach him. The knock at his door so soon after he entered took him by surprise, but when he answered to find his sister eyeing him with crossed arms and a suspicious expression, he could not feel caught off his guard.

Stepping back to allow her to come inside, he asked, "Did you want something, Eowyn?"

She wheeled on him as he shut the door, coming straight to the point. "Just when did you become so friendly with Morwen?" she demanded.

He gave a benign look and answered with questions of his own. "No well wishes or congratulations? Are you not pleased I am to take a bride, or do you not care for my choice?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Do not be foolish! I adore Lothiriel, and I even recommended her to you, if you will recall – of course you have my heartiest congratulations, as you well know! But that has nothing to do with my question, Eomer!"

He sighed, taking her hands in his to draw her over to sit on the side of the bed. "Eowyn, you do not understand the situation, any more than I once did, but I have learned the truth and it changes my view of things. Morwen had good reason to leave the Mark, and unfortunately she also had good reason for not returning. You do not know the whole of her story."

"Eomer! She _left_ us!" Eowyn exclaimed, jumping to her feet and snatching her hands from his, scarcely able to believe she was hearing her brother defend their grandmother.

"No, she did not," Eomer answered quietly, raising a hand to forestall further arguments. "She _went_ to care for her sick daughter and grandchild, fully intending to return. But when they died those deaths, added to the many she had already suffered through, weighed too heavily upon her spirit, and she went into seclusion in her family home. She knew she should come back, and often wanted to do so, but never seemed to muster the energy for it. And none of her children in the Mark managed to go and visit her either despite promises to do so."

He paused a moment, thinking, then added, "The truth of it is, Eowyn, you have spent your entire life feeling abandoned by someone. First it was Mother and Father, and then as darkness overtook our lands we saw less of Theodred. Finally, even I went, riding to battle while leaving you alone at Meduseld to tend Uncle and fend off Grima's advances." He took her hands again as he said, "I am sorry for that. I never meant it to be so, but know this – none of us wanted to leave _you_. We only did what we judged best at the time, and did not consider how you might feel about it."

Tears were brimming at Eowyn's eyes, though she fought mightily to keep them in check, but still she gazed at him in dismay. She had never intended that Eomer think she believed he had failed her in some way. It was only his great love for her that had enabled her to keep going despite all else.

"Morwen was right, you know, when we first met – you and she are not so unalike." He pressed on to explain before she could protest the comparison. "Both of you have struggled with great grief and difficulty in your lives, and coped as best you could. In both situations, not everyone found your choices to be acceptable and right, but they were your choices to make. Morwen did what she felt she had to do, just as you felt you must ride to Gondor disguised as a soldier."

He gave a sigh and rested his hands on her shoulders as she still stood unyieldingly in front of him, though her brow was creased as she wrestled with these new thoughts. "There are too few of us left in the house of Eorl. It is time to lay this grievance to rest, buried along with all the other victims of our recent battles. Forgive her, Eowyn, and find peace in this matter. Then it will not continue to be a blight on your life and happiness."

She eyed him with a wry smile. "When did you get to be so wise?"

He grinned, offering a deprecative shrug. "It comes with being king, I think!"

She laughed and slapped his arm. "I doubt that! But you do speak truly and I will try to let go of my hurt. It may take time, though. As you know, we Eorlingas have very long memories!"

He chuckled and rose to press a kiss to her forehead. "Aye, that we do!"

They had talked longer, but once Eowyn had departed, Eomer collapsed into a chair. He had hardly dared hope it would go so well, but she had been more receptive than anticipated. Suddenly everything that had been going wrong in his life seemed to have found its way back on track, and that was reassuring. As he glanced toward the window, he remembered that he was due to leave this land very soon. That being the case, there was a great deal he needed to get done first.

Shoving to his feet, he strode purposefully to the door and down to Imrahil's office. Lothiriel had agreed to marry him, and the Prince had consented, but he wanted the details set before he left. Given his preference, they would be married immediately and he would take her home with him, but there were other matters to consider that made that untenable.

As it happened, the door to the office was open, revealing an impromptu family gathering taking place. At Eomer's knock, all eyes turned in his direction and he was eagerly welcomed into their midst, but the most pleasing development was Lothiriel's delight at seeing him. He realized how very disgruntled he had become by her constant avoidance of him, however deserved it was. With an arm about her shoulders, he addressed Imrahil, saying, "I suspect there is much we should discuss before I take my leave later this week. May we set a date and make arrangements?"

Imrahil waved everyone to seats and took his own behind his desk. "What did you have in mind, my friend? I will need to know Rohan's expectations before I can make decisions. I doubt very much that your protocols are entirely the same as ours."

Eomer considered a moment, then replied, "Normally, the Eorlingas do not tarry overlong on such matters. Once a couple decides to wed, and there are no objections, the deed is done within the week. In this instance, however, I think we must act differently. I shall ride on ahead and make preparations at Edoras to receive you, while Lothiriel gathers her belongings and makes the journey from Minas Tirith as was done for the funeral of my uncle. I am sure Aragorn will wish to accompany you."

Lothiriel's brow had creased and she asked hesitantly, "Could we not marry before you left and then I would travel with you?" She was not at all inclined to bid goodbye to her betrothed so soon.

The king grinned and shook his head. "My love, if I wed you here and now, I am not sure that I could bear to leave you. But I must go – it cannot be delayed longer – and so I must deny myself anything that would hinder my departure."

"But if I went with you –" she persisted, only to be cut off.

"No. I need to return by way of the Dimholt. Aragorn assures me that the way is clear, but I would not have you come until I know for myself that it is completely safe. And I do not wish to make you endure the discomforts of such a journey." He paused a moment and then added, "Additionally, I think we should take some time to talk and come to know one another better. Though we have been in each other's company a great deal, and I do not doubt our feelings, I believe it can only strengthen our love for one another. I would not rush you into marriage after I have taken so long in becoming ready."

With a sigh of resignation, Lothiriel gave a nod of acceptance to his wisdom, despite it not being her preference. Her father seconded the king's proposal. "A wise decision, to be sure. Were you to attempt a wedding before Eomer leaves, you would be too busy with the details to have much time to spend with each other. I think that is more important than hasty nuptials."

The three brothers now entered the conversation with a discussion of the considerations that needed to be made and determining the logistics. In the end, it was decided that the wedding would take place in two months time at Edoras. That would be sufficient for travel and all other necessary arrangements. Once a date was chosen, Eomer mostly just listened, allowing the talk to flow around him. His part would come once he had returned home; for now only Dol Amroth could act.

Despite the satisfaction of having the planning underway, two days later when Eomer found himself alone in the garden while Lothiriel was otherwise occupied, he discovered he was restless. He had always considered himself a practical man, and he had never allowed sentiment to interfere when doing what needed to be done. But, now, he saw that it was not so simple a thing to set aside sentiment, especially when it meant choosing between following his heart and fulfilling his duty.

The more he spent time in Lothiriel's company, the more assured he felt of his regard for her, and the more unseemly his thoughts became pertaining to her. At least unseemly prior to marriage, anyway. It was more difficult than he had imagined delaying their joining together as husband and wife, and his thoughts constantly dwelled on finding some way for it to be possible to wed her now and take her home with him. But his efforts were futile for he knew what must be done, even if he did not like the knowing.

By the end of the week he had come to terms with the situation, having steeled himself to act accordingly. Lothiriel had insisted on helping him pack his clothing, and Haldor had tolerantly stepped aside to permit it, seeming to understand. It was nearly time for his final supper with the family as his party would be departing at first light on the morrow. Lothiriel ran a caressing hand over the final shirt to be packed and then suggested, "Shall we walk in the garden before the meal?"

Eomer's ready nod of agreement brought a smile to her lips and the pair left arm in arm. They strolled for some time in silence until Eomer inquired, "You will see Morwen home and then assist her in joining in the bridal party?"

"Of course," she reassured. "I would not dream of leaving her out of any of it. Though she never did anything specifically to bring us together, I cannot think that she played no part at all. Our conversations about you, Eowyn and the Mark, coupled with my focus on overcoming the dispute that lay between the three of you – all of that helped keep you in my notice. And, I am sure, in some way aided in growing my feelings for you."

He laughed. "My disagreeable, unyielding manner enticed you, did it?" he asked, recalling how unbending he had been.

"No, not that," she giggled. "It was more that I saw in your eyes and your manner that your heart was at odds with your head, and I believed your heart would come off the victor given enough time."

His eyes narrowed as he asked, "How have you come to know me so well? I confessed my turmoil to no one."

"Perhaps I looked to see," she answered with a shrug. "But it was there, I assure you. A question, a look, a gesture – perhaps you did not intend them to be seen, or did not realize they were noticed, but you often _almost_ bridged the gap with your grandmother, in spite of yourself."

Eomer drew her into his arms and favored her with a lingering kiss before remarking, "I am doubly blessed, for you are as wise as you are beautiful, my love. I am not certain I am so worthy as you deem me, but I shall endeavor to be so if it pleases you!"

Laying her head against his chest and enjoying the steady thump of his heartbeat, she assured him, "You will not disappoint me. I am sure of it."

xxxxx

Even Morwen came out for the leave-taking early the following morning, though she remained at the top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard. Before he descended, Eomer bid her farewell, and wished her a safe and easy journey home and then on to Edoras.

"I will be fine, I am sure, and nothing would prevent me being there for your wedding," she assured him.

He grinned and then said teasingly, "In my joy, I even invite Morlach to come!"

She laughed. "Why would you not? He never gives _you_ any difficulty!" she retorted.

After a kiss to her cheek, he moved on, bidding goodbye to his friends and sister until only Lothiriel remained. He could see the tears she fought to restrain, and knew she very much wished to be riding out with him, but it was for the best that she did not. "We will see each other soon," he said softly, drawing her into his embrace so that she pressed her face into his shoulder. "The trip on the Dimholt road will be difficult and unpleasant. We would not be able to enjoy one another's company even if you were to come."

"You are right, I know," she answered, turning her head so she could be heard. "I just do not like being separated from you now that we have found each other."

"Then come to me quickly," he said, holding her more tightly and kissing the top of her head. "And I will make sure all is in readiness." After several long moments, he bent and kissed her softly, but did not linger over it, knowing it would make the leaving more difficult. "Soon, my love."

"Soon," she replied, her voice quavering, as they stepped apart. He smiled lovingly at her, then turned quickly and stepped up into the saddle.

"Imrahil, my thanks for your hospitality. I shall see you directly, and I thank you again for the gift of your daughter." He glanced at his sister, then added, "Aragorn claimed that I gave Rohan's fairest gem to Gondor when Eowyn wed Faramir. I am inclined to think Gondor has now returned the favor."

The Prince reached up with a smile, clasping arms with the young king. "We shall look forward to seeing you at Edoras in a short while. Safe journey to you."

As the horses clattered out of the yard on the cobbled road, Lothiriel stood watching until they were completely gone out of sight beyond the gate. Arms wrapped comfortingly around her from behind, and Amrothos told her, "It will not be so very long, dearest. You will be so busy getting ready and packing everything that you will hardly notice the time flying by. Now, come inside and turn your thoughts to the future rather than stand here and miss him."

xxxxx

Just as Eomer had expected, the journey over the mountain was not a pleasant one. Even without ghosts and orcs, there was always the travel and making camp each night in strange places, where necessities had to be found. At least, to Eomer's relief, Aragorn was right about the pass through the mountain. Though his men had been fearful to enter, they had followed him without mishap.

After so long an absence, Eomer was tempted to go straight on to Edoras, but with a wedding coming up soon he thought it likely he would not wish to travel a great deal for some time afterwards. That being the case, he turned west to visit the Hornburg and check on the situation there. Making their way through the Westfold, they saw that progress had been made in rebuilding homes and sewing new crops. Gimli had kept his word and sent dwarves to help repair the damage to the Deeping Wall and other structures, and he was pleased with all that his eyes saw.

They spent two nights there, enjoying Erkenbrand's company and receiving his report of doings in the West-mark. At last it was time to go, but there was one more stop Eomer wished to make first. Another turn to the west took them to the Isen and the burial mounds at the Fords.

Alone, he walked to Theodred's resting place and stood gazing upon it, lost in thought. After a moment, he murmured, "You would have liked her, Brother. She will make a fine queen for the Mark. I only wish you could be here to share in my joy." He was overcome with emotion for a moment, but then grinned. "And it will please you to know I have made my peace with Grandmother. Eowyn still resists, but I believe she will come around. Your death was not in vain, Theodred. All we fought to defend, and to bring about, has indeed been achieved. Rest in peace, dear cousin."

Straightening, he checked the emotions cluttering his countenance and turned back to his horse. Time to get home and prepare to receive his bride.

xxxxx (late July)

Amrothos had been correct that packing and preparing for her move to Rohan did keep Lothiriel occupied, at least most of the time. And when it did not, Morwen was quite happy to tell her more of the Mark and its people. Three weeks after Eomer's departure, they were on the boat headed to Minas Tirith, where Aragorn was pleased to congratulate her in person. He had been delighted by the news sent from Imrahil shortly after the betrothal had taken place. After a few days rest, Lothiriel and Morwen traveled to Lossarnach, to check on things there and allow Morwen to collect a few fresh belongings. The weather would be cooler as they headed north, even though the days were still quite warm. September was drawing near and the evenings could get quite chilly.

It was a much smaller party, with fewer wagons and carriages, than had made the trip for Theoden's funeral, and so they were able to make better time. The wheeled vehicles still moved more slowly, but there were fewer tents to raise and lower each day and the smaller group was much easier to manage.

While Eomer had mentioned his conversation with Eowyn regarding Morwen, it was clear to Lothiriel that her friend still had not approached Morwen. She had rather hoped that matter would be resolved before the wedding, but such things could not be forced. Eowyn must come to it in her own time. At least now, she did occasionally glimpse Eowyn casting thoughtful gazes at her grandmother. That was encouraging.

Just as for Theoden's funeral, the trek was long, dusty and tedious, though this time Lothiriel was more distracted by thoughts of what was to come. Their final night before arriving, they stopped at Aldburg for the night, and Lothiriel was grateful for the bed after so long sleeping on the ground. In that respect, she felt assured Eomer had been right not to let her accompany him over the Dimholt. She was not especially good at sleeping out of doors.

Though it had initially amused her, Lothiriel came to appreciate that Eomer had left Eothain behind in service to his future queen, as guard and to see her safely to Edoras. With her father's honor guard of Swan Knights, one man seemed superfluous, but it turned out that he had a ready supply of tales about Eomer that were unlike any she was apt to hear elsewhere, and it gave her greater insight into her future husband's character. She was not exactly _surprised_ by Eothain's stories of Eomer's humor and generosity, but those were sides of him that were not readily apparent to the casual acquaintance. Once they were betrothed, she had discovered more of his humor; she was sure she would see the generosity as well during their life together.

Between Eothain's stories, and what Eowyn told her of Eomer's life, Lothiriel was utterly enthralled, and came to love Eomer even more, if that were possible. She had never tried to love him, but it had been easy to do so. While he was a quiet, serious man – dour, Morwen had once called him – he was also, at times, warm, engaging and even humorous. He had suffered much but borne it well, and given a bit of happiness in his life, she felt sure he would shine brightly in his role as king.

There were many women who had been eager to catch his notice, and she had not been able to keep from wondering what it would be like to stand beside him as queen of Rohan. But if she had not liked the _man_ who was king of Rohan – liked him immensely – she would never have considered for even a moment accepting that role. That she had loved him almost from their first meeting had made her refusal of him the most painful thing she had ever done.

When they departed Aldburg, Lothiriel knew her journey was nearly at an end. It seemed far longer than a mere two months since she had last seen Eomer, and despite the flurry of letters they had taxed couriers with carrying between them, Lothiriel almost felt as though she was going to meet a stranger. After all, she really had not known him so very long. But, in the next instant, a flood of warmth reminded her that she had known him long enough, and that she had the rest of their lives to learn more. Once the nerves passed, she became restless with the inactivity of sitting still.

She had thought Morwen was asleep, leaning her head into the corner against a pillow with Morlach settled across her lap. That suited her just fine on their last day of travel, for Lothiriel's anxiety left her too distracted to be good company. The little dog had apparently sensed her fretfulness for he raised his head to eye her curiously a time or two, though she barely noticed. Then Morwen's voice broke into her frenzied thoughts, "I have never seen you so ill at ease, Lothiriel. What troubles you, child? Do you have concerns about the marriage?"

She jumped slightly at the realization that Morwen was not only awake but aware of her agitation. "No," she sighed, at length, "not concerns, exactly." She paused, considering, then tried to explain further. "It is just that I never expected to return to Edoras as her prospective queen. Will…will the Eorlingas approve of me, do you think?"

Morwen opened her eyes and smiled reassuringly at her. "Perhaps initially they will be cautious, but when they see how happy you make Eomer and how capable you are, then you will earn their respect…and their love, just as Eomer has done. These are not a people who are easily wooed, but once won over they are stalwart to the end. And I have no doubt you will win them to you."

Lothiriel gave a shaky smile of gratitude and tried to relax back into the cushions as Morwen closed her eyes once more. She managed fairly well until they reached the road which split off from the Great West Road and led to the city gates. Unable to resist, Lothiriel leaned into the window, seeking a glimpse of the Golden Hall, her stomach suddenly twitching with nerves. The journey here had seemed to take forever, but now that they were so close she couldn't decide if they were moving too slowly or too quickly.

Morwen's quiet, amused voice said behind her, "It would be appropriate for the future queen of the Mark to ride into the city on horseback rather than in a carriage."

Lothiriel sat back to look at her friend, hesitating despite her own inclination to do just that. "Would it not be better that I arrive in a more…ladylike manner? I think Father would prefer it."

Morwen's lips pressed together slightly, suppressing a smile. "I am sure he would, but your concern now must be with the people you will serve, and they would take a different view."

Lothiriel still hesitated, remarking, "But I have no horse. I left Gaermith in Dol Amroth since Eomer wishes to give me a horse of the Mark. Besides, with his pulled stifle, he would never have managed the journey."

Morwen glanced out the window before suggesting, "I am sure Eowyn would lend you her mount. She would understand what you were doing."

Lothiriel bit her lip, then grinned sheepishly. Despite her protests, she very much preferred doing as Morwen recommended. Turning back to the window, she called to Eowyn and quickly explained. A moment later, the carriage was stopped while they traded places.

Eowyn settled into the carriage with a mixture of delight and tension. She could appreciate Lothiriel's wanting to ride, but having to share the enclosed space alone with her grandmother was not something she desired. They rode in total silence for several minutes before a thought occurred to Eowyn, and her eyes narrowed speculatively as they gazed on Morwen. "_You_ told her to do this?"

Morwen shrugged slightly. "I did not _tell_ her to do it; I merely mentioned that it would be appropriate and she chose to act on her own."

Eowyn's lips twitched at the answer, trying to hide her amusement at the less-than-innocent response. Just then there was a shout, and Eowyn was quickly at the window. She could see little, however, so she called to Faramir, asking what was happening.

He drew his horse closer to the carriage, an amused grin on his face. "Lothiriel has just taken off at a gallop toward Edoras, and is ignoring Imrahil's pleas for her to stop!"

This was too much for Eowyn to bear seated sedately in a carriage. Casting her gaze about, her eyes fell on Eothain riding nearby. "Eothain! Lend me your horse. Stop the carriage! I am _not_ going to miss this!"

Eothain and the carriage halted simultaneously, and Eowyn was instantly out the door and hurrying toward him. He swung down and stepped clear as she scrambled into the saddle and adjusted the stirrups. When she was settled and reached for the reins, the big man commented, "She's moving at a fair clip, but he ought to be able to catch her before she reaches the top!"

Eowyn flashed him a grin and dug in her heels, the great stallion spurting almost instantly into a ground-covering gallop. They raced past those ahead of them, charging for the city gates. Faramir watched for a mere moment before shrugging and taking off after his wife.

Imrahil was left sputtering in frustration where he rode beside Elessar at the head of their party. His dignified, formal entry into the city was certainly not going as planned. Nearby, his sons were all eyeing one another, unsure what to do, but Amrothos glanced between his father and the departing riders several times, and then took off after them before Imrahil could object. The prince quickly scowled at the remaining two sons, saying, "Do not even think about it!"

Imrahil's aggravation caused a chuckle to erupt from Elessar. "Be at peace, my friend," the king told him. "This is not the breach of decorum it would be in Gondor. Indeed, the Rohirrim are apt to more greatly esteem your daughter for her daring!" Reluctantly, the prince accepted the inevitable with good grace.

Eothain had been right – his stallion had gained most of the distance between him and Lothiriel by the time she was only halfway up the hill. Hearing another horse, Lothiriel had glanced back with a bit of trepidation, but when she discovered it was Eowyn rather than her father she merely grinned and made no effort to draw rein. Faramir and Amrothos were not gaining so quickly, their horses unused to climbing this steep of a hill at a fast clip.

Townspeople from the lower end of town had set up a hue and cry at the spectacle, and boys raced beside them, laughing and cheering the riders onward. Others, hearing the uproar, came to see what was happening and were soon caught up as well, either murmuring among themselves about it or adding their own cheers.

At the top, Eomer watched the approaching riders in amusement. At first he had thought it must be Eowyn riding out ahead of the others, since he recognized Windfola, but he quickly realized it was not his sister. The others on the terrace seemed a bit puzzled by what was happening, but Gamling stood to his left and chuckled softly, remarking, "It would appear that your bride is eager to end her journey, my lord!"

"No more eager than I am for it to end," he replied firmly, generating an understanding grin in response. Eomer was almost tempted to hasten down the stairs to meet her in the courtyard by the spring where she would dismount, but he restrained himself, curious to see what she would do.

A few moments later, Lothiriel and Eowyn came to stop and dropped off their horses, almost as out of breath as their mounts. Normally, Eowyn would have seen to her own horse first and foremost, but she also wanted to see what came next and so shoved her reins into the hands of a waiting stablehand and followed Lothiriel up the steps. At the top, Lothiriel finally pulled her gaze from being solely focused on Eomer to realize that his advisors and other dignitaries of the city were gathered there. Her sense of decorum overwhelmed her personal inclination and she came to a stop before Eomer, dropping into a low, graceful curtsy. "My lord king, I am come at your request," she said formally.

Before Eomer could give an appropriate response, Lothiriel glanced up to meet his eyes and the fire she saw there broke her resolve. He had reached out a hand to accept her greeting and raise her from the curtsy, but instead she launched herself into his arms and welcomed the kiss that readily was given. The nerves were gone and so was everyone around them; there was nothing else but being held in the arms of the man she loved. By the time they drew breath, Faramir and Amrothos had joined them on the terrace and she discovered the townspeople were loudly cheering their approval of her fervent display. Instantly, her cheeks flushed crimson, but Eomer held her fast at his side when she sought to step away and attempt more seemly behavior.

"Too late, my love," he murmured, so low that only she could hear. "You have shown your true colors and there is no hiding it now, nor would I wish it!" He cast a teasing glance out of the corner of his eye, and she relaxed slightly, reassured that she had not embarrassed him.

Later, Lothiriel would be grateful for the way she had greeted him. Once her father and brothers arrived with the King and Queen of Gondor, everyone adjourned inside where they were whisked off to their rooms for the duration of the festivities. And that was the last Lothiriel saw of Eomer for some time. He was kept much occupied with guests, and she was equally encumbered with those of her own as well as servants eager to meet their soon-to-be-new mistress and queen. Even once everyone had gathered for supper and conversation, Lothiriel was unable to get away to approach the king.

As the meal concluded, the crowd gathered thick around each of them again. An hour later, Lothiriel had not so much as seen Eomer for some time. Early on, she had gotten glimpses of him across the room, but the well-wishers were persistent and numerous, effectively keeping the couple apart virtually the entire evening. She had to content herself with memories of her enthusiastic greeting of him upon her arrival. At the rate things were going, she might not be allowed near him again until the actual wedding took place. Sipping a glass of wine, she wandered over near the tapestries on the wall, hoping for a moment of solitude before she rejoined the throng.

When she had tarried as long as she dared, she went to set the glass on a table, then turned, drawing a deep breath to ready herself. Before she could take a step, however, a powerful arm snaked around her waist and a large, rough hand clamped over her mouth. In an instant, without even a chance to call out in alarm, she was swept through a hidden passage behind one of the tapestries and carried a short distance down the darkened hall lit only with two dim lanterns.

A mouth pressed against her ear and she relaxed with relief at the words spoken. "Something is very wrong when the king must kidnap his betrothed in order to spend even five minutes with her!" She heard the pout in his voice as he added, "After that greeting you gave me, I had expected you would make more of an effort to escape their clutches!"

As his hold on her eased, she turned in his arms, leaning against the wall behind her. "I would gladly have done so, beloved, but I do not know the secrets of Meduseld well enough yet to act so effectively as you have!" She reached up and drew him to her in a kiss, first whispering, "Let me make amends!"

Several long moments later, he sighed and she felt his grin as he commented, "Very nice. But I deem you are still owing me compensation for the pain I have suffered. Shall you tell me another amusing story, in your own inimitable way?"

"A story! Now?" she laughed. "Why would you wish to hear a silly story?"

"Do not belittle your storytelling," he admonished. "Do you know, I rather think that is when I first began to fall in love with you – as I listened to that ridiculous tale, told with all your flourishes and expression. I did not realize it at the time, but I have never forgotten how you sounded and looked at that moment. It always brings a smile to my face."

"I am glad," she said, stroking his face. "Though I had no notion it meant so much to you."

"You should know, however," he told her, "that your brother vehemently denies your version of things. When I mentioned it to him, he swore that your facts were in error!"

"Bah!" she said, pushing at him. "Who will you believe – him or me? I assure you my version is the most accurate. Amrothos just is too embarrased to admit it!"

He leaned back into her and suggested, "Then perhaps you should attempt to persuade me to your way of thinking…"

With a giggle, she complied.

But their interlude was not to last long, for the very same brother they had been discussing suddenly appeared. "Nice how the tapestries conceal these doors," he remarked, causing the couple to jump apart in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Lothiriel asked irritably. "Surely there is enough to keep you occupied in the hall."

"Aye, there is. Enough to keep the _two of you_ occupied also," he replied, emphasizing his final remark. "I am sure Father would very much like to see you return very soon, once you have tidied your appearance, that is."

Eomer sighed and told her, "Likely he is right and we should go back in, for now. But I do not intend to be kept entirely away from you until we are married." Then he added pointedly in Amrothos' direction, "And _no one_ had better attempt it, if they are wise!"

Amrothos laughed. "Your threats are wasted on me, Brother. If Lothiriel does not mind your behavior, then I have no objections. It is Father with whom you must contend. He has a Gondorian mindset of propriety and will only tolerate so much. Do keep within acceptable bounds."

Eomer nodded his understanding of the counsel, and agreement to heed it, as he offered his arm to Lothiriel. She finished patting her hair back into place and straightened her clothing, before taking it and the three moved toward the celebration. As they walked, Eomer remarked with a smirk, "I am amazed by your lack of concern regarding my behavior with Lothiriel. Most brothers are not so…_tolerant_."

"_You_ did not seem concerned about Faramir and _your_ sister. Why should you be amazed?" Amrothos challenged in return.

"Yes, but in my case I know Eowyn is perfectly capable of _discouraging_ unwelcome attention from a man!" Eomer retorted.

They had reached the door back to the hall and Amrothos tugged it open, then flashed Eomer a wicked grin. "So is Lothiriel!" he snickered, and stepped out of sight past the tapestry.

Eomer's eyebrows rose and he looked down at the demure woman on his arm. "Indeed! It would seem your talents are far greater than I imagined. I still have much to learn about you!" Laughing, they followed Amrothos' path back into the gathering.

xxxxx

Though married and no longer truly the mistress of Meduseld, Eowyn had felt it appropriate to serve in that role for the duration of her brother's wedding celebration. Meduseld's housekeeper was quite capable, but she had been grateful for the assistance with the influx of so many guests and so much to be done. Being only slightly more than a year since they had similarly gathered to honor Theoden prior to his burial, the moment was somewhat bittersweet for Eowyn. She had been trothplighted just after the funeral and so the sorrow had been tempered with joy then, and in some ways that was the case now also. Looking around her she could not fail to realize that she would see little of her homeland in the coming years. There would be visits, of course, but life and distance would mean they would not come very often. And, yet, she could not be entirely melancholy when Eomer was to wed. It eased her heart to know that he would not be alone now that she was gone.

As for herself, she needed a few minutes of time when someone wasn't clamoring for guidance or instruction. Consequently, she had wandered out to the garden. She had been here two days already without having a chance to come and see the progress. After Lothiriel's efforts last year, they had taken her suggestion about finding a widow in need of employment to tend it. There were many of those and two had been given the task, a satisfactory solution for all of them. What Lothiriel had begun was now mostly finished other than for the day-to-day tending of it.

Eowyn stretched as she gazed about, idly moving toward the bench that had been placed here the previous spring so visitors could sit and enjoy the beauty. To her surprise, her destination was not unoccupied – Morwen sat there, watching as Morlach rolled and snuffled on a patch of grass under a tree.

For a moment she hesitated, unnoticed, but then with a deep breath of conviction, she moved forward, asking, "May I join you?" She had not been able to bring herself to approach her grandmother before this, but when the woman had sent Lothiriel charging up the hill on horseback, something had changed. She could not say precisely what it was, but neither could she feel quite the enmity toward Morwen that she always had. As Eomer had said, it was time to end this.

Morwen's left eyebrow rose in surprise, but she merely smiled and nodded toward the bench beside her. That first step had been the easy part; acting further was more difficult, and they sat in silence. As she cast about for something to say, Eowyn's eyes fell on the walking stick Morwen had laid beside her against the bench. Only on this trip from Gondor had she seen the older woman using such a device to steady herself.

"You have taken to using a walking stick, I notice. Are you feeling unsteady?" Eowyn asked benignly, hoping that would lead into conversation.

"Not especially, though certainly at my age caution is always wise," Morwen replied. For a moment, Eowyn thought they would lapse into silence again, but then Morwen continued, "In truth, the walking stick is for you."

"For me?" she asked in surprise. "I have no need of such a thing." Her brow knit in confusion, unable to think Morwen believed her so feeble.

"Not to use as it was intended, no," Morwen answered quietly. "Hopefully any such need in that regard is many years into your future. No," she murmured, taking the stick into her hands and fingering the worn carvings that etched it, "there is another reason for my giving it to you."

More silence ensued, and Eowyn waited less than patiently for her to continue, but stubbornly would not ask any questions. Finally, Morwen explained, "This was made by Eomund for your mother. When she was heavy with child, it helped her to make her way around, especially in Edoras with its steep hill. I thought you should have something of your parents, something with more meaning than just furniture or clothing that you inherited."

A lump in her throat prevented Eowyn speaking for a moment, but then she forced herself to respond, "If it was made by father, it should go to Eomer. He has followed in that path of carving wood."

"True, but Eomund is not the one who taught him and so he does not especially connect it to his father. Besides which, I think you are more in need of a connection to your parents. Eomer was older when they died and had more time to know them," Morwen told her, offering the walking stick to her.

Part of her was still hesitant, but after just a moment's pause, she reached for it. As she ran a hand along it, examining the various things Eomund had chosen to incorporate into its design, a tear slipped down her cheek. She barely remembered her parents, save for what she had been told about them by others. The ice that seemed to have formed in her chest on that day long ago, when the children had been told their mother had followed their father in death, now began a trickling thaw. She had been called cold more than once in the course of her life, and she had never questioned why for she always felt cold inside – until Faramir…and now. The sun had never been able to pierce the chill within her, but the love of family was now accomplishing the task.

"Thank you," she whispered. "This means a great deal to me." She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "How…how is it that you came by it if it was made for Mother?"

"After Theodwyn died, Theoden sent it to me as a remembrance, and possibly because he thought I might have need of it as the years advanced. It has served both purposes on occasion. I can obtain other walking sticks if necessary, but now the remembrance will carry on even after I pass from mortal life. I rather like that idea," Morwen said, giving her a warm smile.

Morlach wandered over to join his mistress then and she bent to attach his leash. "I think I should get a little rest before supper, my dear, if you will excuse me."

Quickly Eowyn was on her feet and helping her grandmother to rise, then walked with her back to her room in the first truly comfortable silence that they had shared.

After lovingly securing the walking stick in her room, Eowyn returned to the necessary work of the household. The final guests were arriving today and there was a welcoming gathering tonight. Then, tomorrow, Eomer would wed. At long last the Mark would once more have a queen. It seemed the darkness of Mordor was finally fully lifted from their lives.

xx

Eomer leaned back and let his eyes rove the hall in contentment. He had fought long and hard to achieve such cheer as he was witnessing, but in the darkness that had surrounded them in the past years he had despaired of their being successful. To his left, Morwen made a comment and, astonishingly, Eowyn laughed in response. He raised an eyebrow as he watched them, unable to repress the smile twitching at his lips. He knew not when they had finally reconciled, and it little mattered. The only thing of consequence was that they had.

Inevitably, his eyes flicked to the woman seated at his right and he reached for her hand, giving her a loving smile when she met his gaze. The recent conflict had brought many changes in their land, and to his life personally, though not the usual spoils of war. He had regained family that once was lost to him, and soon he would begin a family of his own, helping to ensure that the Mark would continue long after he was gone. At this moment, life was very, very good, and he himself was blessed.

TBC

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.

ch 11: Stifle: The stifle is the joint in the hind leg that is most similar to a human knee. The stifle joint is manipulated by a variety of muscles, ligaments, tendons that can be subject to injury. Located approximately in the juncture of the front of the hind leg with the body.


	12. Epilogue

_**A/N: This doesn't actually tie to the main story so very much, but I wrote it in the course of writing Spoils and it does reference Amrothos as he appears in that story. For that reason, I thought it best to keep it connected to Spoils rather than posting it as a one-shot.**_

**_A/N2: I realized it probably was confusing having you think there was "more" coming on the story when this is really sort of a sidestep to it. So I decided to go ahead and post it rather than wait until Sunday._**

**Spoils of War**

**Epilogue**

Amrothos

Is it just me, or is it all brothers who have a difficult time when their sister – particularly a younger sister – comes of age and begins to look at men with interest? Or, worse, when men begin to look at her with interest!

My sister – my only sister – is near to me in age and so we were quite close during our youth. She had not long reached young womanhood before I noticed the eyes of boys following her around. I was even castigated and punished by my father on occasion, when I deemed their attentions inappropriate and made my sentiments known with my fists.

I shall always remember how he sat me down and explained that it was the natural course of life for boys to look at girls and, to my embarrassment, noted how often he had caught me doing just the same sort of thing to other young ladies. I understood, in my mind, what he was trying to say, but somehow it was just…_different_ when it was your own sister involved.

Over the course of the next few years, Lothiriel became even lovelier in her person as well as in her manner, and there were more and more boys – now young men – eyeing her appreciatively. At least I had the comfort of knowing she could defend herself against unwanted advances. I had made sure to teach her that right at the beginning, and checked periodically to see that she still remembered how. They could look, but they had better not attempt to touch!

As I got older, my understanding and acceptance of the intricate dance between men and women grew, and I was less anxious about my sister's interactions with the male sex. Even so, I was determined that only the worthiest of them might ever claim her. Any who approached that I deemed 'wanting', I subtly made my displeasure with them known. Eventually, my efforts at intimidation sent them on their way, and luckily Lothiriel never knew of my interference, or at least never objected to it in those particular instances.

My two older brothers seemed to find my antics amusing, and often teased me for my overprotectiveness, but in their eyes I saw the truth – they felt exactly the same and were glad of what I was doing. I had taken on the role of Lothiriel's protector on behalf of the entire family.

It is simple enough to physically defend someone, but it is not so easy to keep their feelings safe. No brother, regardless of how cautious and careful he is, can prevent a sister from developing feelings for a young man. And neither can he prevent the tears and heartache that come if her affection is unreturned, or is abused. Lothiriel had her share of youthful infatuations, and my father made it clear to me after the first one that I could not pound them all into dust for hurting her. I did not like it, but I learned to only punish the truly punishable acts and not just careless intent.

And then he came. I knew him months before she did, and liked him immensely. I knew him as the most honorable of men, but when I saw how my sister looked at him, and could tell that he did not notice, even he drew my ire. How could he not love and admire her? She was exquisite! She was beautiful and accomplished! The man surely could not be that great a fool! And yet he was blind to all that and deemed her no more than a friend. And her heart cried even though her countenance remained as serene as ever.

Surprisingly, it took me some time to realize what was happening between them. When I finally noticed her upset, there was nothing to immediately connect it with him. It was months later before I glimpsed more, a slight chink in her façade that gave her away. I made a casual remark that I thought was humorous, but her reaction was far more intense than might be expected. Only then, as I looked more closely and saw the heightened color in her cheeks and her sudden nervousness, and noted her firm denial, did I see what I had been overlooking. It took time to piece together exactly what had been happening between them. Ironically, by the time I did, the matter had essentially resolved itself.

While I would have challenged my friend, though he likely could have killed me easily, it became unnecessary. Something opened his eyes to the great treasure to which he had been oblivious before then. And when I glimpsed the intense joy in my sister's eyes, though I would miss our closeness as she moved on to a new facet of her life, I could not help but share in that joy. Then I truly did understand what my father had tried to explain to me many years past. This was a natural part of life, and I could not deny it to her.

Yes, there truly is a man in this world who is worthy of my sister. Imagine that!

THE END

1/23/10 – 12/5/10

_**Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.**_

Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen

Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)

Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen

Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen

Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog

Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)

Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant

Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman

Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer

Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle

Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):

Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.


End file.
